Weakness
by Clez
Summary: Early Season 1. A series of chaotic events keep the members of the Third Watch on their toes during what has to be the longest day of their lives...
1. Chapter 1

She stepped up into the bus, and swung the door closed behind her, her bagel securely in its little takeout bag, coffee rested on the dashboard. With a sigh, she checked the small monitor on the front of the window, and settled back in her chair to tuck into her snack. Her partner would be back soon. He was probably in the can, knowing him.  
  
Kim Zambano took a moment to retie her long light auburn hair, and flick it back over a feminine shoulder, just as the driver's door opened, and Bobby Caffey slipped into the bus, and he smiled at her at the corner of his mouth. His eyes turned downward for a moment, and Kim laughed quietly, opening her bagel bag.  
  
"What?" Bobby asked, turning his handsome head her way for a moment, bringing the engine roaring into life.  
  
Kim glanced sideways at her partner, and grinned, nodding in a downward direction to jog his memory. "You were checking you hadn't... you know."  
  
Bobby huffed, and shook his head as they set off, causing Kim to smile again. He wouldn't make anything of it, and neither would she... unless she got bored. She didn't know how busy their day was going to be, but from the chaos in the city that had kept them occupied lately, she didn't doubt that they would be kept on their toes.  
  
For a while, they simply drove in silence, Bobby with his eyes on the road, and Kim with her attention on her bagel snack. She sipped her coffee sporadically, her own eyes rarely leaving the road.  
  
"So," Bobby began, his voice stoic, "Jimmy takin' you out tonight?"  
  
"What?" Kim snapped, amazed that he had brought this up again. She thought he was over this crap. "No."  
  
"Hey, I'm just askin'," Bobby said, holding up a single hand, and quickly replacing it on the wheel."  
  
"I can't believe you would ask me that."  
  
She felt his eyes look on her, but ignored him. He was being ignorant again, and she didn't have the patience for it right now. Joey was sick, and her mother was looking after him. She and Jimmy Doherty couldn't afford to take time off to look after the poor kid right now. She couldn't believe he had contracted the flu now... when they were most busy. Any other time, and one of the others could have covered for at least a day or something. She would have been able to stay home with her son, but no.  
  
And she didn't like that Jimmy's work was so hazardous. She knew he was damn good at what he did, but that sometimes made him careless, and Jimmy was a stubborn man. He liked to show off, play the crowd, he always had. That was part of what she had loved in him. It was that edge that attracted her to men like him. Shaking her head, she looked out of her window.  
  
It was going to be a long shift.  
  
* * *  
  
"You not hungry?"  
  
Carlos Nieto looked up from his book, and stared blankly at Doc, who was peering at him through his thin-framed glasses inquisitively. After a moment of realising the young paramedic clearly hadn't heard him, he restated his question.  
  
"Oh, no, thanks," Carlos mumbled, forcing a smile, and looking back to his book. He had learned to fill his time with studies, even though Doc had assured him that he should just stick with being a paramedic, and this was coming from the best damn one in the city... according to Bobby. And Bobby wasn't one for inflation of the truth.  
  
"You gotta eat something," Monte 'Doc' Parker insisted, biting into something Carlos didn't recognise, even with his wide taste in food. Doc had gone out for the food alone, and had brought some stuff back to the bus, leaving the door open on the hot day, so that the scent would not flood the vehicle. The last thing they wanted was to nauseate some unwitting victim who tagged along with a broken leg or whatever. Who knew what the day had in store for them?  
  
"I'm not hungry."  
  
"Why not? You sick or something?" Doc inquired, taking a fork, and stabbing into a container of what -to Carlos- looked like noodles.  
  
"No, it's just I had a big breakfast," Carlos lied. He was just making excuses. He was trying to use his time wisely.  
  
"Don't give me that," Doc teased, poking a plastic fork at him and smiling wanly. "Now try the noodles. Best in the city. Trust me."  
  
Carlos rolled his eyes, and decided he might as well wallow in Doc's good graces if that was what the trainer had in store for him today.  
  
Taking a pot off the dash, and a spare fork, he sampled the noodles, and nodded in agreement. "You're right. These are really good." He smiled.  
  
"What did I tell you? You've gotta learn what ones to trust, and where to stay clear. There's one down on the south side that'll give you the runs for a week."  
  
Carlos pulled a face. "Nice."  
  
Doc laughed, and nodded.  
  
* * *  
  
Patrolling the streets was more of a chore than anything, but Ty Davis Jr. knew when to keep his mouth shut... most of the time. He had learned from his partner when to speak and when not to, when to pretend you haven't heard what you've heard.  
  
John Sullivan, or Sully to his friends, walked with one hand in his pocket, and his eyes on the streets. His mind was on the job, and nowhere else. He didn't fall to distraction. He was a firm officer, set in his ways, and Davis respected that, god knew he was smarter than to try and sway the man to new techniques. Sully had been a cop a hell of a lot longer than Davis, and he was a damn good one at that.  
  
Davis was learning a lot from him. He was glad he had been 'stuck' with him, so to speak. According to Bosco, one of the other officers at the station, the only way to be a real cop was to get away from the old guy as soon as possible. So far, it seemed Bosco was talking out of his ass, from Davis' point of view anyway.  
  
And Sully had worked with Ty's dad. And he had been with him when he'd died too. Hell, Sully had even taken Ty to the place where he had drawn his last breath. That had been tough. Seeing the place where his dad had been shot had wracked his nerves, tempted him to the limit to throw in the towel.  
  
But Sully had held onto the kid strong, and he wasn't letting go. The wisdom he had to share was gold, and Davis was waiting in line, arms wide to receive some of that gold. Occasionally it trickled his way, and he soaked it in willingly.  
  
"You wanna head back to the squad?" Sully asked him, eyes not even turning in his direction, even for a moment.  
  
Davis considered for a moment, glancing around him at the bustling streets of New York, and nodded. "Sure."  
  
"Okay. Doesn't seem to be anything out here that needs our attention."  
  
Just as Sully finished his sentence, a man came running up, breath ragged, arms flailing madly, eyes wild. His voice was panicked, and he had to stop and rephrase.  
  
"There's a guy been shot in the alley, man! He's hurt bad, officer!"  
  
"Alright, calm down, sir, lead the way," Sully advised, reaching for his radio. "This is 5-5-Charlie, we've got a man with a gunshot wound on..." he paused, and looked up for a street sign or familiar landmark, and relayed it into the radio upon spotting it.  
  
He, Davis and the man took off at a jog for the scene, and were there within moments. It was a real mess, and the man who had grabbed their attention stood in the mouth of the alley, gaping like a fish out of water in desperate need of air, and fast. He simply stood there; arms limp at his sides, staring like an idiot. The man who had been shot was lying face down in the trash; a visible gunshot wound bleeding on his back, and a rather bad one at that.  
  
"You know him?" Sully inquired quickly, reaching down and checking the man's pulse. He shook his head, and let out a sigh.  
  
Davis couldn't see the man breathing, and it was a bad sign that Sully had just looked so grave all of a sudden.  
  
"Nah, man, I just saw him down here, and came and found you guys, that's all," the man stated, his voice rushed, waving his arms in a desperate manner.  
  
"It's okay, sir, we're not accusing you of anything," Davis assured him, landing a hand gently on his shoulder to calm his nerves.  
  
Sirens filled the air, closing in on their position, and Davis poked his head out of the alley to see what was on the way. One ambulance and another squad car were arriving even as he peered back into the alley.  
  
He heard the slam of doors, and looking over his shoulder, he saw the approach of Kim and Bobby with their medical bags, tailed quickly by Faith Yokas and Maurice Boscorelli... or rather, Bosco... he refused to be called anything else. Davis understood that, but he didn't share that understanding.  
  
The two police officers let the paramedics into the alley, and stood in the mouth.  
  
"What's goin' on?" Yokas asked, her red-brown hair tied back neatly into a bun, strands of it loose already. Bosco stood slightly behind her, hand on his nightstick, looking incredibly bored. His eyes flicked occasionally to the body of the gunshot victim, and he frowned deeply. He looked as pensive and moody as ever. Yokas was her normal inquisitive calm self.  
  
Sully had his hands on his hips, and moved aside so that Kim and Bobby could work. "Guy found him like this in the alley."  
  
"I didn't touch 'im," the man insisted, shaking his head and staring wide-eyed down at the man.  
  
Kim looked up at Yokas, and shook her head. Yokas nodded, and looked at Bosco, who moved out of the alley, and grabbed his radio.  
  
Davis could just make out his words; "This is 5-5-David, we've got a body in an alley on the corner of West-103rd. Gunshot victim."  
  
There was the familiar sound of a response from the other side, but it was too quiet for Davis to hear, and so he turned his attention back to the other officers, and the two paramedics.  
  
"I'll get the gurney," Bobby said stoically, standing, and retreating from the alley.  
  
"Is he dead, officer?" the man asked in a panic, his voice shaking. He didn't know whether to look at Sully, Yokas or Davis. If Bosco had still been in the alley, the poor guy would have gotten dizzy and fast.  
  
"I'm afraid so, sir. We're going to have to take you down to the station to answer some questions," Sully told the man, his tone soothing, trying to sound understanding.  
  
The man nodded in a daze, and simply continued to stare at the body on the floor.  
  
Bobby pushed his way past patiently with the gurney, and he and Kim went about their business. They would have to wait for forensics to come and take their photos first of course, but then the coroner could take the body back to the morgue at the hospital for... whatever. Davis wasn't too clear on procedure after that. He wasn't sure he wanted to be.  
  
"Well, nothing more we can do here. See ya' later, Sully, Davis," Yokas said quietly, striding from the alley. There was the sound of her calling out to Bosco, before Davis heard them get back into their squad and leave the scene.  
  
Sully looked back at Kim and Bobby for a moment, then led the way to their own vehicle, which was parked down the road. The man who had informed them of the dead body followed obediently, fully aware that he was required for questioning. Sully had explained quietly.  
  
Davis brought up the rear, taking one last glance at the dead man, before moving off.  
  
* * *  
  
Boscorelli sighed heavily, and sunk back in the seat, staring blankly out of the front windshield. Yokas heard his bored sigh, and glanced briefly in his direction as she drove the car slowly down the street, the sun shining through the glass at regular intervals.  
  
"What's the matter with you?" she asked impatiently.  
  
Bosco shrugged. "I dunno. How often do we find guys like that in an alley, Yokas? What's the point of goin' down there and checkin' 'em out anymore?"  
  
Yokas let out a breath quickly. "I can't believe you sometimes. We're out here to... no, I'm not goin' to say anything."  
  
Bosco glanced over. "What did I do?"  
  
"Forget it," Yokas mumbled, and turned onto another street, peering through the windows before simply staring ahead once again.  
  
Bosco shook his head slowly, and rested his elbow on the side of the car door, balling his fist and leaning his head against it.  
  
For ages the two sat there in complete silence, save for the occasional ramble from the radio that didn't concern them. They had learnt to ignore it whenever their squad number didn't come up, and they stared stoically out of the windows.  
  
"5-5-David, we have a family dispute at an apartment block on the corner of Morrison Avenue."  
  
Sighing lightly, Bosco reached up to his radio. "5-5-David, Ten- Four."  
  
Yokas flicked on the lights, and turned off the street they were patrolling and drove quickly to the scene of the dispute, which they couldn't miss unless they were deaf and blind. Even as they parked the squad, a chair flew out of the third floor front window, crashing to the road below, narrowly missing a tow-truck that drove past.  
  
"Oh, this is gonna be fun," Yokas grumbled, slamming the door to the driver's side, and looking up as the sound of screaming filled the busy air. Quite a crowd had started to form below, and they were staring up at the building.  
  
"Hey," Bosco called to them, removing his nightstick, and crossing quickly to the building's main entrance, "come on, get outta here. Move it!"  
  
A few of the crowd immediately started to move away, intimidated by the police officer, who simply carried on into the building, his partner in close pursuit. The others simply gawked.  
  
The lobby was empty, and Bosco headed into the stairwell, and jogged up them with ease, Yokas right behind him, glancing over her shoulder frequently.  
  
Bosco emerged on the third floor, and followed the sound of the shouting to the correct apartment door, which, quite frankly, they couldn't miss, considering the wood was cracked in two places, and the door was starting to warp out of its frame.  
  
"This looks like the place," Yokas said, even as Bosco banged on the door three times in succession.  
  
No one answered, and the shouting continued from inside.  
  
"Police!" Bosco yelled, banging on the door again, hearing what sounded like someone telling them not so politely to buzz off.  
  
Shaking his head, he stood back, and kicked the door in hard, feeling it give way beneath the blow. The screaming from inside did not falter, nor did the smashing of personal objects.  
  
They proceeded with caution, and Bosco emerged into the living room, ducking immediately beneath a plate that shattered inches above his head against the wall. He looked at it as it fell in shards to the floor.  
  
The couple in the apartment were in their mid-thirties if anything, and both showed signs of greying in their hair. The woman's hair was black, tied back into a simply ponytail, swinging from side to side as she screamed and threw objects at a man. She was a reasonably short woman, her arms lean, her legs covered by a long skirt, her face showing her years with bags around her eyes and lines of age down her skin. The man himself was tall and bulky, a receding hairline of brown hair topping off an angry face of sharp lines. The sleeves on his chequered shirt were rolled up roughly, and his fists were balled as he yelled heatedly. They hadn't seemed to take much notice of the two police officers.  
  
"Hey, what's goin' on here?" Bosco called to them over the screaming that never ceased. It was difficult to pick out anything other than expletives in amongst their yelling.  
  
Yokas neared the woman, Bosco closing on the man. They had been in situations like this before, and they knew their strengths. Yokas knew she couldn't handle a man that size. Hell, he made Bosco look short as well.  
  
"Sir, you're gonna have to calm down for me, okay?" Bosco offered, holding out a hand, the one that wasn't holding the nightstick.  
  
"Get your hands away from me!" the man yelled, his face red with rage.  
  
"Ma'am," Yokas began calmly, her voice soothing, "ma'am, do you think you can ease off for a minute so we can talk?"  
  
"He's been cheating on me for six months, the son-of-a-bitch!" she screamed, infuriated, tears streaming from her eyes as her body shook.  
  
"Well, why don't you come over here with me for a minute and we can talk about it, huh?" Yokas told the woman, reaching out, but never touching her.  
  
The woman breathed heavily, and sobbed frantically, but looked Yokas in the eye and saw the compassion there, and so she nodded, moving off for a moment, but not before placing the last plate she held slowly down on a nearby table that had not been toppled.  
  
"See that? Now your wife's calmed down," Bosco said calmly, well, as calmly as he could manage, "you think you can give it a shot too?" He slotted his nightstick away for emphasis, trying to ease the situation. He reached out a hand to the man.  
  
"I swear, if you touch me, I'll break your arm!" the man yelled quickly. He whirled on Bosco, hands balled into fists so tightly that the knuckles went white.  
  
"Alright, I won't touch you if you don't want me to, sir, I just need you to calm down and stop raising your voice," Bosco told the man sternly, and Yokas could see he was starting to lose his own temper.  
  
"That bitch accuses me of sleeping with another woman. What right have you got to come into my home and tell me what to do? And you're paying for the door!"  
  
Bosco looked over at Yokas, and raised his eyebrows, as if to say 'if he doesn't calm down, I'm gonna sock him one'. Yokas shook her head in warning.  
  
"Well, if you keep your voice down, maybe we can talk about it civilly for a little while and sort something out, huh?" Bosco never really was very good at the calm stuff. He was running out of things to say, and he wasn't getting a good enough hold of the situation.  
  
"Civilly? I'd much rather go over there and give her a black eye," the man growled, starting to move over to where Yokas and the woman stood. "Lying through your teeth about me! Why don't you just learn to keep your mouth shut, woman?"  
  
He stepped forward, raising a fist, but Bosco grabbed his arm. The man whirled, throwing Bosco back against the wall. Swiftly, Yokas came over, and rammed the man up against the wall, just as Bosco stood to his full height again.  
  
"You're under arrest for assault on a police officer," Yokas told the man loudly, cuffing him after a moment of brief struggle with him.  
  
Bosco ran a hand over his spiky brown hair, and glared at the back of the man. He grabbed a hold of one of the man's arm, and started to drag him rather unceremoniously out of the apartment.  
  
Yokas stayed behind a few moments to get a statement from the woman, and to tell her what would happen to her husband now, and then followed Bosco.  
  
She slipped her notebook away as she joined Bosco at the elevator, even as the doors opened and the young male officer shoved the man inside angrily.  
  
"My lawyer's gonna have a field day with this," the man grumbled irritably.  
  
"Yeah, well you can just sit tight and shut up until then, can't you?" Yokas told him, never really looking at him, only at Bosco, who seemed pissed. Whenever someone took a swing at him, it was his impulse to swing back. He hadn't really had a chance this time though, thankfully. He might have done quite a bit of damage to the man if he had.  
  
"I'm gonna be out of jail within twelve hours. Just you wait," the man said to them, "my wife will come to her senses."  
  
"Maybe not now she's found out you were sleeping with another woman," Yokas said lightly, leaving the elevator when it reached the bottom. Bosco pushed the man ahead.  
  
"I didn't cheat on her," he stated, "she's lying."  
  
"Yeah, I bet she's really the one sleepin' around," Bosco muttered. He stopped outside the squad car, after leading the man through the small crowd by his arm.  
  
"It wouldn't surprise me."  
  
"Mind your head," Bosco said, pushing the man into the back of the squad car and slamming the door behind him, and moving to climb in the passenger side.  
  
Yokas watched him get in the car, shook her head, and followed suit. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Step aside please, miss, we need to get through."  
  
The young woman looked up from her prone friend, and shuffled to one side, letting Doc and Carlos through, the former giving her a brief smile, before settling down to work on the fallen young man. He had a rather nasty cut on his head, and he was unconscious.  
  
"You say he fell?" Doc asked the woman, removing his equipment from his bag, reaching first for his stethoscope. He put it to the man's chest, hooking it in his ears, and listened as the woman replied.  
  
"Yeah. We were just walking along, and this guy comes running past and knocks him flying. He hit his head," she said, voice shaking, sniffling. "Is he gonna be okay?"  
  
"Got a steady rhythm," Doc reported to his partner. Carlos nodded.  
  
"Did you see the guy who knocked him down? Where was he going?"  
  
The woman looked Doc in the eyes, and he could see her confusion and bewilderment. She didn't know what was going on.  
  
The park was reasonably quiet for this time of day. It was close on when school's emptied, and the elder paramedic had no doubt that it would start to fill soon, kids would want to play on the swings, climb the trees, and play football. They needed to get this gentleman out of here before then. They would gather quite a crowd.  
  
"I'm not sure."  
  
"Okay. Well, a couple of police officers might want to ask you a few questions when we get to the hospital. Just calm down, try and think, and maybe we can get this all sorted out, okay?" Doc patted her reassuringly, and turned to Carlos. "Fetch the gurney?"  
  
"Sure," Carlos agreed, and trotted off to do as he was asked. He was back quickly, wheeling the gurney in front of him, steering it competently through the small crowd. "Excuse me, please, thanks."  
  
"Is he gonna be okay? Jake?" The woman aimed most of the comment at her friend who was now being loaded onto the lowered gurney. They had fixed a collar around his neck just in case, and were being very gentle.  
  
"Is that his name?" Doc inquired, seeing the woman's nod. "Okay, Jake, can you hear me?"  
  
The young man made no response, and Doc gave up after that. Carlos would try and get something out of him in the back of the bus, but for now, they just needed to get him to the hospital and get him checked out.  
  
* * *  
  
Jimmy Doherty slammed the door to the fire engine behind him, and swung his helmet onto his head, looking up and whistling at the sight of flames pouring out of the roof. That was not a stable building at all.  
  
"What's goin' on?" he asked, waiting for a reply, hands akimbo, mask at the ready just in case. From the looks of it they had gotten everybody out in time. People were lined up next to Kim and Bobby's ambulance, coughing and smoggy.  
  
"Not sure. We got a call that the building had just... gone up in smoke. Everyone managed to get out on their own. We're just trying to put out the fire now." The guy nodded once to Jimmy, and reached for a hose.  
  
Jimmy tilted his head for a moment, trying to shut out the noise of the sirens and alarms, and narrowed his eyes. What was that? Moving a step closer, he lowered his arms, and listened more attentively.  
  
He whirled back on the other fire fighters. "There's somebody in there!"  
  
"What? They said there was no one else in there," Sampson said, shaking his head, looking to the others from the truck. They nodded in agreement.  
  
"No, no, listen," Jimmy ordered them, holding up a hand. At that exact moment, a window above them shattered, glass raining down on the street below, and smoke poured generously from the frame above. A scream was heard, high-pitched and terrified.  
  
"There!" Jimmy bellowed, seeing a small head poke out of the black frame, the face thick with grime, and tears streaming from the young eyes. It was only a kid, twelve at the most. "Come on!"  
  
He put his mask over his face, re-donning his helmet afterwards, and raced into the doorway without another thought. He heard someone call after him, but he was too far in by the time he registered the shout. It was Kimmy. She had probably seen him run in.  
  
He heard footsteps behind him, and for one horrifying moment, thinking it was Kim, turned, only to see Sampson, Willis and Hendrickson following him in, masked and ready.  
  
"She's up there, the fourth floor!" Jimmy shouted over the din of roaring flames. There was a glow from up the stairs, and smoke had clogged up the corridors and hallways. Precariously, he ran up the stairs, checking his weight on each step before taking another tread. So far, so good. He knew not to be careless... he just wanted to get that kid outta here.  
  
They managed to clamber up to the fourth floor without any of the stairwells giving out on them, but when they reached that floor, flames rolled across the walls, and thick black smoke was clouding across the ceiling, chokingly taking over the floor.  
  
"Doherty! You're not going to be able to get to the kid in time!"  
  
He waved a hand, and started to pick his way through, hearing the scared cries of the child from in the next room; adjacent to the hallway they were travelling through. A piece of ceiling collapsed, bringing a table with it. Sampson jumped back, but Jimmy just flattened himself against the wall, and waited for it to clear again. The floor above was gutted. They were going to have to be quick, or the whole place was going to come down around them.  
  
"Help me, please!" he heard the girl cry, and he smashed open the door to the room she was in, feeling the wood shatter out of the frame. It splintered and flew everywhere, and within a couple of seconds, he could see the outline of the girl there. He rushed over to her, seeing her crouched and shivering in the corner.  
  
"It's okay, you're alright, we're here to help," Jimmy told her, pulling his mask off, and giving it to her so that she could breathe. He hoisted her into his arms, and felt how frail she was. She was so small, thin and helpless. He turned, and started to make his way back, but the frame was starting to collapse into the room, fire eating greedily at the wood.  
  
"Doherty, where are you?" he heard Sampson yell frantically.  
  
"I'm in here!" Jimmy shouted back, and coughed twice. "Dammit..."  
  
He looked back to where he had first seen the girl emerge from the window, only to see that it too had started to deteriorate with the flames that swelled around it hungrily.  
  
"Doherty, we can't get through! We gotta go back, man!"  
  
"Get outta here!" Jimmy called to them, hearing them shout for a minute before retreating. He turned, seeing a small door behind him. The girl in his arms was crying. He kicked the door, and then again, feeling it crack and give way weakly beneath his weight.  
  
There was a window. It was tiny, about the size of a bathroom opening. He cursed lightly, and set the girl down in a safe corner near a dresser, taking a small fire axe out of his belt, and swinging it hurriedly at the glass, felling it shatter immediately. He heard the ringing of the glass as it flew outwards, and he broke the rest of it away, before leaning out of it, and calling to the firemen below.  
  
"Get a ladder over here! We can't get out through the stairs!" He saw Kimmy below, staring wild-eyed up at him, standing stock-still in the street, paramedics and fire fighters bustling about her. Bobby grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. Jimmy shook his head, and turned back on the girl. She was reaching out to him. Jimmy coughed madly for a moment, and then took her in his arms, hearing the whir of the ladder being raised.  
  
Looking out of the window, he saw the ladders swinging in close, and looked to the young girl. She was terrified, staring with saucer-eyes out of the window, as though going through it was potentially the most frightening thing she would ever do. He only now noticed that she clung tightly to a teddy bear in her arms.  
  
"It's okay, sweetie, we're gonna take you down the ladder, alright?" He coughed, feeling the burning of the smoke in his lungs. "Don't be scared."  
  
The ladder made contact with the window-ledge, and Jimmy started to take the girl over, and he began helping her through.  
  
Within moments, she was safely on the ladder, staring up at Jimmy, and sobbing something. What was it she wanted now?  
  
He managed to pick out the word teddy, and he spun around, eyes scanning the floor, before he spotted the fuzzy and soiled bear on the floor, beady eyes staring up at him. He grabbed it in a gloved hand, started coughing, and climbed out of the window, showing the girl the teddy.  
  
"I got the bear, kid, don't worry, I got him," he said reassuringly, and told her to start climbing down the ladder, which she did slowly, at her own pace. Jimmy coughed and breathed deeply, trying to take in some clean air.  
  
They reached the bottom at last, and a cheer went up from the occupants of the building who were now below, and Jimmy nodded, distracted. He turned to the little girl, and handed her the teddy bear. She hugged it tightly, latching onto Jimmy's leg, and squeaking words of thanks. He smiled, and patted her on the head, taking the mask off her, and holding it in his hand, taking in a deep breath.  
  
Kim and Bobby came over, Bobby leading the kid over to the ambulance, asking her questions, like whether or not she was okay, and how was her breathing, or was she burnt.  
  
Jimmy watched her go, wiping his now-gloveless hand over his eyes, and letting out a deep breath, coughing afterwards. Kim was staring at him.  
  
"Are you crazy? Rushing in there," she stated, her voice displaying her anger and concern both at once. She always did this. Ex-wife's prerogative, he supposed.  
  
"Did the others make it out?" he asked, ignoring her comment, and saw her nod.  
  
"Yeah, all three of them made it out just before you smashed the window. You could've gotten yourself killed, that girl too. Why didn't you just wait for the ladder? You could have gone up there and got the kid."  
  
"I don't know, I just did it on instinct."  
  
"Yeah? Well, what happens next time your 'instincts' kick in and Joey suddenly doesn't have a father, huh?"  
  
"Kimmy, I'm fine," he wheezed.  
  
"Let me take a look at you. How long were you without your mask?"  
  
He shrugged under his thick jacket, and sighed. "Five minutes?"  
  
"Well, you should be fine. Just don't pull any stunts like that again."  
  
Jimmy smiled his most charming smile. "Yes, mom."  
  
She slapped him on the arm, and shook her head. She wasn't amused... she rarely was anymore. Ever since their divorce she never laughed at any of his jokes. She only ever smiled in matters concerning Jimmy when he was with Joey, then she was the happiest he ever remembered seeing her. He supposed she felt like they were a family when he was with his son... he sure as hell did.  
  
* * *  
  
Sully popped another fry in his mouth, and glanced over at young Davis, shaking his head at the melancholy expression on the dark face. It was no good for the kid to keep mulling over things that were out of his control.  
  
They had taken the guy back to the station... the one who had found the dead body in the alley, and had questioned him thoroughly. But that had been in the hands of the detectives, the hotshots, as they liked to think they were. They weren't so special. It was people like Sully and Davis, and Bosco and Yokas, who were out here on the streets solving the problems. The detectives just took a look at the mess left over, shook their heads with a quiet mutter about something or other, and moved it along.  
  
"Hey, you gotta eat, kid. Have a burger or something," Sully advised, wagging a fry at his young partner.  
  
Davis glanced his way, and shook his head. "No thanks. I'm not hungry."  
  
That was that. Sully wasn't going to watch this guy mope all day, worrying over something he couldn't have done anything about. "Look, we're out here everyday, trying to solve problems, and we do the best we can, right? Sometimes we get it right, sometimes things go bad, that's out of our control. You gotta forget about it, detach yourselves from the bad ones. Sure, something goes good, and we solve a problem, then you can go home at the end of it all, and smile yourself to sleep... but don't punish yourself because one guy was already dead when we got there. You weren't to know that guy was going to die today... I bet no one really did. It was just the way it was supposed to happen, okay?"  
  
Davis considered Sully for a moment, as the elder policeman ate a couple of fries, smiling at him wanly, and he nodded. Davis understood, even if not fully... he was pretending to, and that was enough for Sully.  
  
* * *  
  
Yokas stared over at Bosco as he kicked a can rather noisily along the path in the park, and sighed loudly, noticing he turned his head in her direction.  
  
"What did I do now?"  
  
Faith stopped, glancing around the edges of the bushy park for a moment before she replied, "Do I have to remind you of what you did?"  
  
"I didn't do anything." Bosco turned away, kicking the can as hard as he could manage, sending it careening a good ten feet across the grass. "The guy pushed me, Faith. You should've let me hit him back."  
  
"And what would that have accomplished, huh? He could have pressed charges," Yokas said to him, hopefully jogging his memory of just what they were and were not allowed to do in their job. She took her hat off for a moment, tucking a strand of rebellious hair behind her ear, donning the cap again afterwards.  
  
Bosco didn't turn back to her for quite some time, gazing off somewhere into the distance. After a few minutes, he turned back to her and said, "What are we even doing out here?"  
  
He had changed the subject... as usual. He always moved the conversation along when it turned onto him doing something he shouldn't. Bosco didn't like confrontation from Yokas that much. She knew as well as he did that the easier they could work together, the better.  
  
"We're looking for a young guy, mid-twenties... weren't you listenin' to the radio?"  
  
"Of course I was," he retorted, snatching his hat off, ruffling up his hair for a moment in the cool New York air. He did not replace the hat on his head. "I just don't see the point. All the guy did was..."  
  
"See? You weren't listenin'. Might as well turn the damn thing off," she grumbled, and then turned to face her partner properly. "He was harassing a group of kids. Parents were worried he might be some sorta gang member or somethin'. He's wearing a dark blue jacket and a baseball cap."  
  
"He white?"  
  
"Yes, he's white," Yokas snapped, eyes scanning the park.  
  
Bosco began walking away from Yokas, his back to her, and that gave her time to regard him seriously for a while. He was being especially... what was the word? Pissy?  
  
That'll do, she thought without a scrap of humour. He had been like that since the moment he had strolled casually into the locker room. Late no less. He hadn't even seemed bothered at all either, and that annoyed the hell out of Faith.  
  
"You say that guy was wearing a dark jacket and baseball cap?" Bosco inquired suddenly, and Faith could see his body tense. She had seen him do that countless times before. She knew what it meant.  
  
"Yeah. Why?" she asked tentatively, already reaching for her radio, watching Bosco turn back to her halfway.  
  
"'Cause he's just over there," he said quietly, words rushed. "Here." He tossed her his hat, which she fumbled to catch. He took off at a brisk pace whilst Faith called in the sighting to the station. 


	3. Chapter 3

Bosco had covered half of the distance to the guy before he turned, peering out with dark eyes beneath the shadowy peak of his cap, casting half of his face into darkness. He shot off like a rocket, giving the young officer no choice but to give chase.  
  
He didn't even glance back to know Yokas had turned back to fetch the squad car. She always did when he was in pursuit. He was a hell of a lot faster than her, and she knew it as well as he did.  
  
Why do they always run? he thought with a smile as he ran as fast as his legs would carry him. They know I'm gonna chase 'em. It only makes them look guilty anyway.  
  
The man ran into an alley after exiting the park, only just managing to avoid a collision with a group of pedestrians, who Bosco ran around with ease, following the guy into the side access to an apartment building.  
  
He stopped immediately. Where had the guy gone? He had definitely come down here... Bosco had seen him, and it was very rare that his eyes lied to him. But he had been right behind him... he shouldn't have been able to dodge Bosco so easily.  
  
Removing his gun from its holster in precaution, he moved steadily down the alley, eyes scanning the area around him in case the guy felt the need to jump him from some hidden alcove or doorway.  
  
Where are you? Bosco thought slowly, trying to think through things logically.  
  
He heard the tyres of a car come to a halt at the mouth of the alley, and reflected on the closed in walls of the alley were the flashing lights of the vehicle.  
  
Lowering his gun, and cursing quietly, he re-holstered his weapon, and whirled back to see Yokas stepping half out of the car.  
  
"Where is he?" she asked, looking over Bosco's shoulder down the alley, then turning her eyes this way and that in search of the man in question.  
  
"I lost' im," Bosco grumbled unhappily, stepping out of the alley, and moving around to the other side of the car, hearing his partner call in that they had lost sight of the suspected gang member, and that all units should keep an eye out.  
  
He sat himself heavily in the passenger seat, glaring out of the front window. He hated losing.  
  
* * *  
  
Jimmy slumped back into the armchair in the station on King & Arthur, and let out a deep sigh, feeling his breathing coming more easily to him now, after rescuing the young girl from the fire. Not long after getting her out, the child's mother had rushed over, apparently having only just returned from grocery shopping, and had thanked him heartily, swearing she would repay the debt. He had insisted it was no problem, and it was all in a day's work, without trying to belittle the value of her daughter's life, and had moved on.  
  
He was glad that it was over... for now. He was ready to go if another call came in, but his body was protesting right now, and he just needed to sit back and take it all in for a while.  
  
Kim and Bobby were out on call... thank god. He didn't need any of Kim's complaining right now, no matter how much he treasured his ex-wife. He hated her moaning. She always seemed to find something at fault with anything. Her coffee was too cold, the sun was too bright, it was too cold... anything.  
  
The other guys from his engine were back as well, bustling about their business, pretty much ignoring Jimmy altogether, moving around him as though he were not there at all.  
  
The radio was playing, as well as the television, but Jimmy shut them both out, content to simply sit here. He suddenly wondered if he would be able to sneak away and be with his son for a while.  
  
Don't be stupid, he told himself, you're needed here.  
  
He wanted to see Joey. He hadn't seen him in at least two days. He loved his son so much it hurt sometimes, and it pained him that he and Kim hadn't been able to work out their differences so that he and Joey could spend more time together. Jimmy wanted to watch his son grow into the amazing young man he knew in his heart Joey was going to be, without a doubt.  
  
Joey was fantastic. He had such an innocent outlook on things, it was sometimes depressing to hear what he had to think, and realise how much it contradicted with how terrible the world really was. Jimmy hoped his son never had to find that out for himself.  
  
Without even realising, he was up and walking, humming along to a tune in his head that no one but him could hear. He was moving down the stairs, and was outside the station before he even noticed he was cold. Why had he come out here?  
  
Some women were walking down the road, but he didn't even notice how they looked, what colour their hair was, or whether or not they had noticed him or not. What was wrong with him? He was a little off today, it seemed. Things were passing him by, and he wasn't even aware. Since that fire, he had been... it seemed as though he was switched off somehow. His mind was wandering madly, and his thoughts were chaotic, all colliding with one another until they all started to culminate into one headache-provoking mess.  
  
Giving a quiet groan, and crossing his arms, he heard the rush and the alarm from upstairs. Another call.  
  
Here we go again.  
  
* * *  
  
"What a day," Kim sighed, leaning back as far as she could manage without slumping right out of her seat in the passenger side of the bus. It had pretty much been non-stop since their shift had started at three. There were at least another six hours to get through yet, she realised with a frown.  
  
"Hectic, huh?" Bobby agreed, nodding, and turning the wheel to steer the bus. "You hungry?"  
  
"No thanks. I could go for some coffee though," Kim replied, looking briefly to her partner, subconsciously running the end of her ponytail through her fingers over and over again.  
  
"Okay, no problem," Bobby murmured with a smile, parking the bus carefully, and stepping out without another word.  
  
Kim watched her partner go, raising a single eyebrow for a moment, resting her elbow on the ledge of the window beside her where she sat. She saw Bobby disappear into a store, and turned her eyes elsewhere, watching the cars go by, trying to see the people inside. There were quite a variety of people driving around. Old people; young people; couples; singles; punks; businessmen... all kinds of people.  
  
She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes for a moment, thinking back on what had happened so far. It had all pretty much started with that dead man in the alley with Sully and Davis. After that they had been called to the fire in the apartment building, where Jimmy had bolted inside without thinking, risking his own life like the idiot he was. She had watched him charge inside, and had had to come to terms with the fact that her son could have lost his father in those few minutes. That had been pretty damn scary.  
  
After that, they had had to transport some people from the building to Mercy hospital, and it had taken up nearly half an hour. Now they were here. And now that she thought about it, it seemed like they hadn't done a lot, but what they had done had taken time, and now she was tired already. Not a good sign, considering the shift wasn't even half way through yet, and she felt like collapsing to the floor of the bus, or taking a nap on the gurney in the back.  
  
"Wake up, Kim," she murmured to herself, shaking her head slowly back and forth.  
  
Bobby climbed back into the bus, handing her a cup of hot steaming coffee, and the scent soon filled her nostrils, making her smile. This was what she enjoyed. Just sitting back and relaxing after knowing you had done good, with a good friend and a decent cup of coffee in your hands to warm you up.  
  
She appreciated the chance to take a rest every now and then in a shift, and it seemed as though it was going to be a pretty long and quiet rest... right up until she thought about it, and a call came in about an attack on the corner of West-105th.  
  
She groaned, and glanced at Bobby with a frown. He shrugged, sipped his coffee quickly, and set it on the dash, then brought the bus to life, steering it out into the street.  
  
* * *  
  
"I could've got that guy, Faith."  
  
She looked over at the sound of her name, glad she had parked the car so she could close her eyes and turn her head to the roof of the squad, long enough to think about seriously clipping Bosco around the head hard with her hand for constantly whining.  
  
"I should've got him."  
  
She turned her head to him, tucking a disobedient strand of hair away neatly, before saying, "Bos', don't worry about it. We put a notice out to all other units, and they'll keep an eye out."  
  
At that exact moment, her radio crackled into life, and she listened patiently to what was said.  
  
"Attention all units, positive ID on possible gang member spotted harassing youths in park. Suspect is Wayne Thomson."  
  
Faith reached up and activated her radio. "5-5-David, Ten-Four central."  
  
Bosco glanced sideways at her, and sighed lazily. "If I catch up with him again I'm gonna kick his ass."  
  
"What? For givin' you the slip? Bos', how many guys have you lost since you've worked this job?"  
  
Bosco turned his head to her. "Less than the amount I've caught, that's how many."  
  
She rolled her eyes, and stared out of the window, watching a young couple walk past, hand in hand. She watched them go, without even realising she was lost in her own little world when Bosco slapped her on the arm lightly, to catch her attention.  
  
"What?" she asked, snapping back to reality.  
  
"Earth to Faith, we got a call. Disturbance on West-105th, let's go."  
  
* * *  
  
Bobby held up his hands as the gun whirled in his direction, the barrel aimed squarely at his chest, and his dark eyes settled on Kim in the arms of the man with the weapon, his heart racing. He glanced down momentarily at the other man, lying concussed on the sidewalk, blood down one side of his face from a blow that had obviously knocked him out cold.  
  
"Alright, just let her go, man," Bobby eased, trying to take a step forward. A crowd stood all around, forming a rather large and imposing circle around the two paramedics, the injured man, and the gun-wielding attacker. He had still been here when Kim and Bobby had arrived, holding a rather large metal pole of some kind. Bobby and Kim had tried to calm him down, resulting in the guy grabbing the latter and holding her at gunpoint. He was rambling incoherently now, and the female paramedic looked surprisingly calm.  
  
"The cops will be here any minute," Bobby warned, trying not to make it sound like he was threatening the man. He didn't want to be responsible for his partner getting shot, or worse, killed.  
  
The man shouted something madly about cops, something Bobby didn't register. He saw flashing lights from down the road, and resisted the urge to turn his head in that direction. Maybe this guy hadn't noticed yet. Bobby doubted he could see anything from beneath the low peak of his baseball cap anyway.  
  
A path opened in the crowd, rather begrudgingly, and Bobby noticed two police officers moving through it, drawing their guns immediately and taking aim without a second thought.  
  
Bosco and Yokas.  
  
Bobby tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving the man holding Kim. He hoped this guy had enough sense to realise that he wasn't going to get anywhere with the cops having arrived now. More were on their way, no doubt. At least someone had had enough common sense to actually call the cops in the first place.  
  
"Look, Faith, it's our friend from the park," Bosco said to Yokas without turning his head away from his point of focus, gun trained on the man ahead of him.  
  
"I'm not goin' to jail," the man wailed. He didn't really seem to realise what he was doing. He looked a little dazed.  
  
"Well, you're going the wrong way about it there," Yokas told him steadily, taking a step forward, standing behind Bosco about three feet, her own weapon raised at the ready.  
  
The man said nothing, simply looked this way and that, and Bobby could see clearly now that his hands were shaking. This guy was a mess.  
  
"Kim, you okay?" Yokas asked, eyes turning on the woman.  
  
She nodded, but said nothing. Her hands held onto the arm of the man gripping her.  
  
"Wayne," Bosco began, moving forward a fraction, considering the man seriously and with a certain level of caution, "put down the gun. You know as well as I do that you're not getting out of here any other way than in a squad car."  
  
"Come any closer, and I'll shoot her," the man said in a rush, eyes darting to each of the members of the emergency services in turn.  
  
"Okay," Bosco agreed, lowering his gun a little.  
  
Bobby watched, wondering what was going through the male cop's head. Bobby rarely saw what went on in these situations, and he wasn't sure he really wanted to. He just wanted to grab Kim and get out of here. He wasn't about to admit it to anyone, but he was terrified.  
  
The man on the floor stirred and groaned.  
  
Yokas looked down at the wounded man, and then to Bosco, who had turned his head back to his partner. Bosco looked to the man he had called Wayne.  
  
"The paramedic needs to help this man. He doesn't look too good. I'm guessing you had something to do with that, right, Wayne?"  
  
The shadowed eyes snapped in Bosco's direction, and he stared for a moment. He seemed to be considering the policeman's intentions. After a while he nodded.  
  
"Are you going to let Bobby here treat him?" Bosco ventured, tilting his head a little in inquiry.  
  
Wayne stood there for another moment, before nodding swiftly.  
  
Bobby carefully moved backwards, and then knelt at the side of the wounded man, dragging his paramedic's bag over to him. A few members of the nearby public had started to close in on the scene, and he looked back to them and shook his head, waving a hand to shoo them away. Reluctantly, they obeyed.  
  
Bobby checked the man over as the conversation went on before him, finding that he had a steady rhythm, and it just seemed like he had a concussion. Still, he needed to get to a hospital.  
  
The next thing he knew, a shot rang out, filling the New York air, drowning out everything but the screams of the public, who soon began to scatter in a panic. Their screams continued even after they had started to run.  
  
Bobby looked up, thankful that no one had actually been hit. It seemed that Wayne had only become aggravated by the nagging police, and had fired a warning shot. Kim looked a little more frightened now. Bobby threw her a look that showed his promise to get her out of this alive.  
  
"Put down the guns," Wayne said in a shaky voice, pointing his own weapon at them, "and kick them over here."  
  
Bosco glanced to Yokas, who was already placing her gun on the floor. Bosco followed suit, shoving it with his shoe so that it skidded across the sidewalk over to Wayne. Yokas' gun came behind it.  
  
"Now what, Wayne?" Bosco asked him, holding his arms out to show he was unarmed, and basically unthreatening. "We just wait here until a half a dozen squad cars fill this street? You know it's gonna happen, Wayne, and so do I."  
  
Wayne shook his head. "I can't get arrested."  
  
"Well, doesn't seem like you've got a lot of choice in the matter," Bosco said to him, lowering his arms. His eyes never left Wayne. "The only choice you've got is whether a charge of murder goes on top of what you've already done." Bosco was starting to sound more and more irritated by the minute, and Yokas reached forward, and mumbled something quietly to him. He ignored her. "Let the paramedic go... she didn't do anything to you, Wayne. Leave her out of this. Do you really want her to get hurt?"  
  
Kim looked down at Bobby, and seemed a little scared of Bosco's tactic. She wasn't the only one.  
  
But still, Wayne seemed to be in agreement. He shook his head slowly, looking a little shaken. It appeared that Bosco's words were sinking in and making sense to the man.  
  
"So whadda ya' say you let her go, huh?"  
  
Wayne stared at Bosco, and for a moment, Bobby thought he saw his grip on Kim loosen... just for a moment. But then he hesitated, and his gaze became hard.  
  
"But they won't let me out of here without her."  
  
Bosco shook his head, and his face was as though set in stone. "They're not gonna let you leave with her, and you know it. They'd kill you first, Wayne."  
  
An insane smile crossed Wayne's face, and Bobby felt a rush of terror sweep through his body, even as he squeezed the trigger. 


	4. Chapter 4

Doc slammed his hand on the button that activated the sirens, and pressed his foot down on the accelerator as soon as the call came in about gunshots having been fired on West-105th.  
  
Carlos was pensive in the passenger seat, eyes staring straight out of the window before him. His face was grave.  
  
Doc didn't really know what was going on, but he understood the potential of the situation. Someone could be seriously hurt, and they needed their help... and no matter what, they were going to get it.  
  
He turned onto West-105th, seeing a milling of people, a crowd blocking off a view to a central point of focus that led Doc to believe that whatever was going on was concealed within that very circle. He jumped out of the bus, and grabbed his bag quickly.  
  
"Move!" he yelled, not giving a damn about hurting anyone's feelings. This was different. Their normal calls led to bumps and bruises, or a stomach upset. Not this... Doc had a feeling.  
  
And when he reached the centre of the circle, his heart sank. A figure lay on the ground, two paramedics working on them, and a police officer was crouched right beside them, their head in their hands.  
  
Doc came over immediately, kneeling beside the wounded party. "What happened?"  
  
"Nut-job had Kim at gunpoint. Then he shot Faith."  
  
Doc's eyes floated to Bosco for a moment as he sat rested literally a foot away, head lowered, his hands over the back of his neck. He seemed in a state of shock, but otherwise unharmed. Doc nodded to Carlos to check him over anyway. His partner gave him a look of acknowledgement, and moved over to the officer, who didn't seem to notice his arrival.  
  
The bullet had hit Yokas in the left shoulder, and had seemingly knocked her out as well. She was unconscious, unaware of what was going on around her.  
  
Another police car pulled up.  
  
"Oh, man," came Sully's voice as soon as he penetrated the crowd, and Doc turned his head in time to see the rookie Davis stop completely at the sight of the wounded officer laying on the crowd, bleeding.  
  
"Move them back," Doc advised, nodding to the crowd discreetly, turning his attention back to Yokas and the other paramedics. Kim looked shaken, and Bobby was hard at work.  
  
Doc stood, intending to fetch a gurney, at exactly the same point that Bosco whirled on the crowd around them.  
  
"Is something interesting to you, huh? Get outta here!" he yelled, angry to the point of shocking Doc, who had seen the man snap countless times. Never had he seen Bosco act this way though... he knew that it was all because this included his partner, a woman he cared for more than he would ever bring himself to admit to anyone. A married woman with two kids.  
  
"Hey, hey, calm down," Carlos said to him steadily, holding out a hand.  
  
Bosco ignored him, glaring at members of the crowd, who were already frightened of the man, and backing away slowly.  
  
Doc moved forward, at precisely the same moment that Sully travelled over to Bosco, and grabbed him by the shoulders, speaking to him quietly, and moving him back and away from the crowd, over to a wall at the edge of the sidewalk.  
  
Doc used the opportunity to fetch the gurney, and bring it back to the scene.  
  
"We've got a guy with a head wound as well," Bobby reported, nodding his head over to a man lying not too far away.  
  
"We'll take Yokas, you follow with him," Doc advised, seeing the younger paramedics nod in agreement, too stunned to argue. "Carlos, I need a hand."  
  
* * *  
  
They hadn't let him drive the squad to the hospital, but instead had advised that he ride in the back of the bus along with Faith. He had nodded without a word, and did as he was told, too angry inside to bother arguing.  
  
As soon as they had arrived at the hospital, Bosco had followed everyone into the hospital, and had realised at the doors to Mercy that he was too stunned to go inside. He had thought he had the situation under control; that Wayne was listening to him. And the next thing, his partner had gone down... a gunshot wound in her shoulder. And what made it worse was that the son-of-a-bitch had gotten away... Bosco hadn't even given chase.  
  
Kim stopped beside him, and regarded him guiltily.  
  
Bosco's eyes turned to her, and he could see in her eyes how he must have looked.  
  
She embraced him briefly, and without even realising, he hugged her back, welcoming the sympathy for once, even though he normally hated it, normally denied people the opportunity to give it to him.  
  
But this was different... this was Faith. This was his partner, and his best friend.  
  
And he was going to catch the bastard who had done this to her.  
  
* * *  
  
Sully stood by the vending machine, uninterested in its contents, hands in his pockets casually; eyes staring down at the other policeman who sat slumped in a chair. He looked more depressed than Sully had ever seen him in their time working at the same station... and that was quite a while. A few years now at least.  
  
Bosco hadn't said two words in nearly half an hour, a shocking event to the veteran police officer, who was constantly wishing to shut the hot- headed cop up every few minutes for talking too much.  
  
But now... it was frightening to see someone who appeared so on top of things all the time so down, so negative, with such a frown on his face. At one point, Sully had thought he'd seen tears in Boscorelli's eyes... a 'weakness' that he had never expected in a million years from someone so strong on the outside. How strong was Bosco on the inside in reality? Sully didn't know... expected he never really would.  
  
"I should've gone after him," came the quiet voice, lacking in emotion.  
  
Sully cocked his head ever so slightly, considering the statement seriously for a few moments. He moved forward a step so stand before a fellow officer. "You weren't to know he was going to shoot anyone... least of all Yokas."  
  
Bosco slowly shook his head in disbelief, leaning forward so that he was perched on the edge of the seat, running a hand over his tousled dark hair. "I should have expected... something, anything. The guy had lost it. Why didn't I go after him?"  
  
Sully removed his hands from his pockets, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Bosco, you can't blame yourself. If the guy had lost it, as you said, then there was no way for you, Bobby, Kim, or even Faith to know that he was going to use that gun."  
  
Bosco didn't say anything else, just glanced up at Sully for a moment, searching for something in the other officer that he seemed unable to find. His eyes travelled back down to the floor soon after.  
  
Footsteps approaching attracted Sully's attention, mainly because he recognised the stride now, after these past few months. He turned to meet Davis, who had three cups of vending machine coffee in his hands. He handed one to Sully wordlessly, and then moved and offered one to Bosco.  
  
Bosco looked at the cup as though coffee was the strangest idea in the world right now, but still, after a few seconds, he accepted it, simply holding it in his hand, not interested in drinking it at all from the looks of it.  
  
Another person approached, and this time, all three officers looked up immediately.  
  
Doctor Morales was coming towards them, a chart in her hands. Bosco shot out of his chair, moving forward to stand in front of the two others, drawing the Hispanic doctor's eye instantly. She walked to them.  
  
"We were able to remove the bullet, and stop the bleeding. She didn't lose too much blood, and with some rest and relaxation, she should be fine in a few weeks. She'll have to wear a sling."  
  
Bosco let out a long relieved breath, and nodded silently.  
  
"Thank you, Doctor," Sully said quietly, earnestly.  
  
Davis smiled wanly, glad that a fellow officer was going to be okay.  
  
"Can I see her?"  
  
Morales looked to Bosco, and after a moment, she nodded, leading him away.  
  
Sully watched them go, turning once to Davis, and sighing heavily. He hated it when stuff like this happened... which, to him, was all too often in New York.  
  
* * *  
  
Bosco wasn't too fond of hospitals, he never really had been. As a kid, they had frightened him unexplainably, and he still didn't understand it now. He just knew that being in a hospital usually meant you were dying, or someone you knew and loved was dying.  
  
Stop thinking like that, he told himself sternly, following Dr. Morales obediently, without a word.  
  
They soon came to a room, and Bosco took the opportunity whilst standing at the door to dump his unwanted coffee in a waste basket next to him, his eyes never leaving the figure lying on the bed inside.  
  
"You can go on in if you want," Morales said to him gently, touching his arm softly.  
  
He nodded, and opened the door slowly, and moved inside silently, closing it behind him as quietly as he could manage. He couldn't believe he was worried about waking her.  
  
Bosco walked over to her slowly, shocked to see how frail she looked lying there, a woman he had worked with for near on... god, how long was it now? It escaped his memory. But she had always seemed so strong a woman that it was horrible to see her this way, pale and unconscious, lying in a hospital with an IV in her arm, a heart monitor sounding the rhythm quietly for background noise in the otherwise silent room, the dim lighting reflecting off varying surfaces.  
  
He took the stool next to her bedside, and rested his arms on the rail that had been raised.  
  
"Hey, Faith," he said quietly, staring down at her, trying to shut out the sound of the heartbeat that seemed to be a thousand times louder than he knew in reality it actually was. It was deafening.  
  
"I hear you're gonna be okay," he continued, clearing his throat a little. "You gave me quite a scare for a while there, you know that?" He laughed quietly, his smile soon fading. "Now I know how you feel all the time when I run off... or jump through windows." The smile returned, and he found his hand reaching to take a gentle hold of hers as it lay motionless at her side.  
  
"Kim went to your place to tell Fred and the kids you're gonna be okay. I don't know if they're comin' in or not... she didn't say. God... this is weird."  
  
He waited for her to respond, before forcing himself to remember that she wouldn't. She was resting.  
  
He squeezed her hand slightly, before saying with a little more volume, "I'm gonna catch the guy that did this to you, Faith... I promise. He's not gonna get away with it, I won't let him get away with this. I'll make him regret what he's done to you."  
  
Bosco felt the anger burning up through him again, and he had to force it back down. The last thing he wanted was an outburst in a hospital room... his partner's hospital room at that.  
  
He stood, his hand still holding hers gently, and he leaned forward and kissed her forehead softly, before letting go, and leaving the room with one last glance back at his best friend.  
  
Moving down the corridor, he saw Sully standing at the end, in the waiting room, watching him approach.  
  
Bosco didn't stop, just kept right on going out the door.  
  
He ignored Sully's call after him.  
  
He just kept on going.  
  
* * *  
  
"Where's he going?" Ty asked, standing from the chair he had taken it upon himself to sit on in the waiting area, feeling the light weight of his empty coffee cup.  
  
Sully cursed quietly, and cast a desperate glance down to where Bosco had come from, before looking Ty in the face. His young partner saw the look in his eye, and he felt the fear wash through him as well.  
  
"I'll give you one damn guess where he's goin', and it ain't home."  
  
Ty rushed out of the hospital with Sully, only to find that Bosco had disappeared completely. There was no sign of him up and down the street outside the hospital, and even as they stood waiting, an ambulance pulled up.  
  
Carlos jumped out of the back of the bus, swinging the doors open with him. Doc slid out of the front from behind the driving wheel. He ran around to the back of the bus immediately.  
  
Ty and Sully watched, seeing them wheel out a young man, blood all over his face and hands. Doctor Morales and some others that Ty didn't know the names of ran out of the doors behind them, and he and Sully stepped aside quickly to ease their movement.  
  
Carlos stopped at the door, obviously letting Doc take care of this. He looked a little worn.  
  
"What was that all about?" Sully inquired, staring after the paramedic and doctors that sped off down the corridor inside the hospital.  
  
Carlos shrugged once, and shook his head. "We got call about another attack in the park, and when we got there, someone was fleeing the scene, and we found that guy lying facedown in the dirt. He's a mess." He looked the cops in the eye each in turn. "I don't mean to be negative, but I'll be amazed if he makes it."  
  
Sully turned back, even as Ty asked, "Did you see the guy who done this to him?"  
  
"Barely," Carlos replied, scratching his head subconsciously, and then continuing, "I'd say he was about six foot, dark clothes, and a baseball cap, white."  
  
Ty looked to Sully knowingly, and swallowed. He recognised that description.  
  
Sully groaned, and mumbled, "Wayne Thomson." 


	5. Chapter 5

Jimmy whirled as soon as the bus stopped outside, and he walked out of the door into the dim light of dusk that shrouded New York like a cloak sweeping over the skyscrapers and apartment blocks, casting stretching shadows down into the streets below.  
  
Bobby and Kim climbed out of the side doors, and the latter immediately yanked the scrunchie out of her hair, her face grave, her eyes downcast.  
  
Jimmy came forward immediately, concern ebbing in him. He started jogging without realising, casting a single glance to a stoic-seeming Bobby Caffey.  
  
"Kimmy, what happened? What's wrong?"  
  
She looked him in the eyes, and they locked gazes for a while. He couldn't read what was wrong in her expression. She was in a mess. Her hair was tousled, and her eyes were red. She looked exhausted. He took a hold of her arms gently.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
She shook her head, and said, "Faith got shot."  
  
Jimmy's arms fell to his sides instantly. Hell, he was no great fan of the cops down the road, but he knew Faith Yokas, and she was a decent person, one of the best in 55th.  
  
"How?"  
  
Bobby came back, and started to explain.  
  
Jimmy listened tentatively, and with a little disbelief as the male paramedic slowly went through what had happened, from the moment they had gotten the call about an attack, to going to Faith's apartment and telling her family.  
  
"Oh my god, is she gonna be okay?"  
  
Kim shrugged. "I think so. Morales told us they'd stopped the bleeding, and that she was going to be okay." She walked away after that, and for a moment, Jimmy fumbled over what to do. He decided to chase after her, knowing that guilt was tearing her apart at that very moment.  
  
"Kim, it's not your fault, you know that. How can you blame yourself?"  
  
Kim didn't even turn back, just started climbing the stairs two at a time, Jimmy right behind her. "Because I can, because I was there, and I keep thinking... I don't know, maybe he should have shot me."  
  
"How can you think that, Kim?" Jimmy blurted, taking a hold of her shoulder and spinning her around, making her face him. "You have a kid. Joey needs you."  
  
Kim didn't waste any time in responding. "And so does Faith. You don't think Charlie and Emily need their mother? What about Fred, huh?"  
  
Jimmy stopped, his hand falling from her frame, his eyes locked firmly with hers. This had them both messed up. It wasn't even a fireman or a paramedic, like it had been with Jerry. But still, it felt just as bad, to know that someone they both knew and spoke with frequently was lying in the hospital. It never changed.  
  
Bobby appeared near to them, and he moved to the fridge, removing a soda, saying, "Sully and Davis just got back. They said Bosco took off."  
  
Kim wheeled on her partner. "Where did he go?"  
  
"They think he went after that guy Wayne, the one who shot Faith."  
  
"It wouldn't surprise me," Jimmy said under his breath, grateful no one heard. His looked between the two paramedics and said, "So what do we do?"  
  
"They said we should keep an eye out for him. He's probably out there looking for revenge. Sully and Davis are gonna see if they can find him before he does something stupid." Bobby shrugged under his jacket.  
  
"Knowing Bosco," Kim began, hands on her hips, "that won't take very long."  
  
* * *  
  
Faith came awake slowly, grateful for the low lighting in the room in which she found herself. She furrowed her brow weakly, and felt her eyes casting this way and that, impatient for them to come into proper focus, finding a familiar face at her bedside.  
  
"Doc?"  
  
A smile spread across the dark face, and he nodded, his eyes looking down on her. He was leaning over her bed slightly, arms rested on a raised railing.  
  
"Hi, Faith," he greeted her, and took a breath. "How are you feeling?"  
  
She took a moment, letting her mind come to terms with how her body was feeling, and what parts of it she could move comfortably, and what parts ached. "Like I got shot."  
  
He smiled again, nodding once more. "I just thought I'd drop by and see you whilst I was here."  
  
Faith looked up at him, and although she was surprised her husband wasn't here by her side, let alone her children, she found herself longing for the company of another.  
  
"Where's Bosco?"  
  
Doc let his eyes wander for a moment, before tilting his head ever so slightly, eyes narrowing, as he said, "We're not too sure."  
  
Faith sat up instantly, with as much ease and causing herself as little discomfort as possible, which wasn't a simple task. She winced, and avoided moving her left arm pretty much altogether. "What do you mean?"  
  
Doc held out a hand to stop her hurting herself, and continued, "He came in to see you about an hour ago, and then took off. We haven't been able to find him, Faith. Needless to say, his behaviour has us all a little worried."  
  
"Tell me about it. I've been putting up with it for a long time. I know how it feels," she said, her voice suddenly hoarse.  
  
Doc handed her a cup of water, which she took and sipped through a straw steadily, pacing herself despite her thirst.  
  
"You have to find him."  
  
"You're not kidding," Doc agreed, standing up straight and pocketing his hands pensively. "Sully thinks he's gone to find that Wayne Thomson guy... the one who shot you."  
  
Faith let her head hang for a minute, and closed her eyes as she spoke, "Dammit, Bos', why do you do this to me?"  
  
"Do you have any ideas on where he'd look?" Doc inquired gently.  
  
Faith met his gaze, and felt her thoughts rushing about madly in her head for a moment until a couple of ideas came upon her. "He'll talk to other street gangs, see what he can dig up. Did they try his radio?"  
  
"Three times now, and each time he hasn't replied."  
  
Faith felt something inside her tug heavily, and her heart sank a little. Why did he feel the need to do this sort of thing? He was only going to get himself seriously hurt or killed, and Faith didn't want that, no matter how important revenge was to her partner. She wasn't ready to see him get into a mess he couldn't get back out of again... because of her.  
  
She remembered the seconds before feeling the bullet hit her, and how everything had seemed to stand still for a fraction of a moment as that trigger had been squeezed. She had wanted to see her children's faces, hear her husband tell her he loved her... god only knew if he really meant it at all any more, the way he acted. She hadn't been ready to go, and obviously someone had been listening to her, otherwise she wouldn't have woken up on this hospital bed, which wasn't anywhere near as comfortable as she had thought it would be.  
  
"Do you think you can get me a radio in here? I might be able to get in contact with him, get through to him maybe."  
  
Doc seemed to brighten at the idea, and he nodded vehemently. "I'll see what I can do."  
  
"Okay, thanks," Faith called after him quietly as he left in a hurry, and sipped her water again, wishing for something more substantial.  
  
She hoped Bosco was okay.  
  
* * *  
  
Bosco stalked the streets swiftly and with intent, his eyes scanning down every shady alley, and studying the faces of anyone who looked remotely like Wayne Thomson. His body felt literally exhausted, and his head pounded, but he ignored both, adrenaline pumping, anger coursing through him like a drug.  
  
Nothing was going to get in his way until he had caught up with Wayne and given him what he deserved... of course, giving the guy what he deserved would end up with Bosco losing his job.  
  
Right now he didn't care. All he cared about was making him regret what he had done. No one got away with hurting one of Bosco's friends, never... least of all Faith. She was so much more to him than a friend. She was pretty much all he had right now, the only constant that kept him going every day, and he didn't know what he would do if he ever lost that. He wanted to ensure it never would happen.  
  
Turning a corner, he recognised a group of adolescents, and strode up to them, calling out to one by name, seeing the youth turn and grimace at the sight of the cop.  
  
"Whadda you want now, man, I didn't do nothin'."  
  
"I don't care what you did," Bosco snapped, coming to stand literally inches away, seeing out of the corner of his eye that the others who had been with the youth backed away a little. "I want to know if you've seen a guy called Wayne Thomson. You get around... I figured you might have heard of him."  
  
Bosco often ran into this young guy, who went by the unoriginal name of Spike. It made Bosco cringe whenever he had to say it, which he tried to avoid doing as often as possible.  
  
"I don't know no Wayne, man, why are you always in my face?"  
  
"Hey, my partner got shot today, and this Wayne guy needs to be taught a lesson, you understand? Now, have you seen him, or not? It's a simple question," Bosco asked, every word dripping venom.  
  
Spike frowned considerably, and shook his head. "I ain't seen him. I ain't seen him in weeks. He lost it... starting freakin' out. We don't want nothin' to do with him no more."  
  
Bosco nodded slowly. "See, now was that so hard? If you see him, let me know, okay?"  
  
"Right," the kid agreed reluctantly, turning back to his companions and shuffling off.  
  
"I mean it," Bosco mumbled after him, and whirled to go in the other direction, grumbling to himself.  
  
As he walked, he tried telling himself several times that he should just do the sensible thing and head back to the hospital and check up on Faith, see how she was doing. But then, when had he ever been sensible?  
  
With a sigh, he rounded another street corner, and came to a slow halt, narrowing his eyes to see if his mind was playing tricks on him.  
  
Over the road, and walking away from him, was a tall guy in a dark jacket, a baseball cap atop his head. He walked shiftily, every step faster than the last one, and he scanned the streets often.  
  
"Son-of-a-bitch," Bosco muttered, and started to jog over the road, careful not to get hit by a car on the late New York street. When he reached the other side, he kept his eyes as best as he could on his target, trying never to look away, unless Wayne turned back to see if he was being followed. Bosco was using all his resolve to keep from bolting down the street and beating him senseless right then and there. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, make a scene.  
  
Slowly, Bosco started to close the distance between himself and Wayne, feeling his movements quicken as he neared the taller man. He was tempted just to bring out his gun and empty the clip into his back... but that wasn't the sort of guy he really was, he knew he couldn't bring himself to do that. He hoped he never had to.  
  
Wayne made a sharp turn.  
  
Why do they always go down alleys... it's a little bit of a cliché, Bosco thought hurriedly, quickening his pace so as not to lose this guy... again. He had already done that once today, and he wasn't about to do it again.  
  
He let his hand float back to rest on the handle of his gun in its holster as he turned into the alley after Wayne, looking around instantly and with caution. He knew what this guy was capable of, and he knew he had to be careful. The last thing he wanted was a bullet in him too, that would be a little counterproductive, despite the resistance his vest would provide.  
  
He drew his gun, feeling a little déjà vu sneak up on him as he paced the alley, peering into every shadowy hidden alcove and doorway, finding that the alley was a lot longer than he had first expected.  
  
Bosco kept his pace slow, listening for any sounds that would give away Wayne's position, and his senses alert, despite his exhaustion.  
  
Where are you? Don't do this to me again, his mind chattered distractingly, and he shook his head a little to clear it. Apart from the noise of the evening New York life behind him walking past the mouth of the alley, it was quiet, and he found that a little disconcerting. He couldn't just have disappeared... could he?  
  
Maybe Bosco hadn't seen him at all... maybe he was so tired his mind was playing damn believable tricks on him.  
  
Just as he was about to peer into a pitch-black corner of a building alcove, his radio sounded rather noisily.  
  
"Bos', are you there? It's me, Faith."  
  
Just as he was about to reach up and reply, something struck him at the base of the skull, plunging him into darkness. 


	6. Chapter 6

"Dammit, Bosco, don't ignore me," Faith grumbled irritably, trying the device again, "Bosco, are you there? Can you hear me?"  
  
Sully and Davis stood beside her bed, the former pensive as ever, the latter looking down at her curiously, eager to get going and do something constructive and stereotypically cop-like.  
  
She shook her head at the thoughts, and pressed the button of Sully's radio again, pleading internally for him to answer.  
  
"Bos', don't be a jerk, and don't ignore me... please answer me. I need to speak to you in the hospital."  
  
She let go of the button, and waited nearly twenty whole seconds before letting her head sink heavily back to the pillow, ignoring the pain in her shoulder from the soft impact. She stared with concern at the far wall, before saying, "Why wouldn't he reply to me?"  
  
"Hey, I thought it would work as much as you did, Yokas," Sully replied, and reached out for his radio. Faith handed it to him, watching him reconnect it to the speaker on his shoulder, and settle it on its belt- clip.  
  
She was angry with herself... annoyed that her plan hadn't worked like she thought it would.  
  
"I hope he's okay," she said quietly, noticing that Davis cocked his head, as though he heard her quiet words.  
  
"Bosco can take care of himself... at least that's the impression I've been getting," Davis commented, glancing around the room as if he were reluctant to make solid eye contact with Faith.  
  
She sighed. "His problem is he doesn't know when to quit. He's so damn stubborn, and it's only going to get him into deep trouble."  
  
Sully groaned. "I know what you mean. And we've got the not-so-easy job of findin' him before he does something amazingly stupid."  
  
Faith frowned, furrowing her brow as she thought chaotically about where her problematic partner could have gone.  
  
Dammit, Bos', why do you always do this to me?  
  
* * *  
  
Bobby had told Kim not to drive after their dramatic experience earlier on in their shift. It had her shaken up quite badly. He supposed it was because she had seen it from a whole other perspective than Bosco and Bobby had, let alone Yokas.  
  
It was near the end of their shift now, and they were just cruising around slowly, both keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of the AWOL cop, Bosco. He had been gone nearly two hours now, and everyone was getting a little worried, considering Sully had just contacted them to tell them that Yokas hadn't been able to get in contact with him via radio.  
  
"You think he'd reply to his partner," Kim said quietly, her head rested in exhaustion against her palm, her elbow on the sill of the window to her side. She had systematically retied her hair every half an hour since the incident earlier, and her behaviour had Bobby a little concerned.  
  
Bobby shrugged loosely. "You know how arrogant Bosco is. He's probably out there on the warpath right now. I doubt he's still got his radio on anymore. Probably turned it off as soon as he left the hospital."  
  
After a few moment of silence, Kim nodded and replied, "You're probably right. I hadn't thought of that."  
  
Bobby allowed himself a half-smile for cheering her slightly. If you could call the deepest frown he had ever seen cheered at all. Not even Mattie had been that depressed when he was in jail, and that was saying something. His brother was sometimes quite a negative person, and Kim was usually so high-spirited.  
  
It was bringing Bobby down too, seeing her like this. He wanted nothing more than to see her smile again, see her happy. He supposed that wouldn't be until they had located Bosco, and he and Yokas were back on duty together. Until then, he realised she would only get a fraction happier every day of Faith's recovery.  
  
"I'm gonna stop and get a coffee," Bobby said quietly, looking to her as he parked, "did you want something?"  
  
She shook her head, gazing out of the side window on her side of the bus.  
  
"You sure? Hot chocolate... vodka... anything?"  
  
She laughed a little, looking to him, and saying, "No thanks, Bobby."  
  
"Alright," he agreed as he jumped down out of the bus, and made his way towards a store next to their parked position. He looked this way and that as he travelled the short distance, searching for any sign of the police officer they were all on the lookout for, but found nothing.  
  
Sighing, he opened the door.  
  
* * *  
  
Carlos wished Doc trusted him enough to drive the bus, especially when they were on a call... like they were now. It had come in about five minutes ago, and they had just finished loading the poor young guy into the back of the bus, a bullet hole in his chest.  
  
"I don't wanna die," gargled the youth lying on the gurney, even as Carlos injected him with something he knew on instinct he needed to administer. He spat the cover for the needle on the floor of the bus, and looked the adolescent in the eye.  
  
"You're not gonna die, you're gonna be okay," Carlos tried to insist, his voice wavering as he realised he was losing the patient.  
  
What had his friends called him? Some stupid name... something tough guys liked to call themselves. Carlos had heard it used before, and thought it ridiculous in all those cases too.  
  
"How's he doing?" Doc called from the driver's seat, turning onto the street leading to Mercy.  
  
Carlos shook his head discreetly so the bloodshot eyes would not see, and called back, "We need to hurry!"  
  
Doc yelled back to the youth, barely turning his head, even as they screeched to a halt in front of the hospital, seeing Dr. Morales appear. "Spike, we just need you to hold on, okay? We're at the hospital, and the doctors are going to take good care of you."  
  
"Okay," the frightened guy said.  
  
Spike... that was it. Carlos remembered now hearing his friends ask him desperately if he was okay.  
  
Carlos opened the back doors, even as Doc appeared to help unload the gurney, Morales at his side, reaching out to aid them.  
  
"What have we got?" she asked as they moved.  
  
"GSW to the chest. Found him lying in the middle of the street. Low blood pressure," Doc reported.  
  
Carlos trailed behind, trying not to get in the way, whilst trying to keep in the action at the same time.  
  
He realised when they got inside that he was only hindering their progress, and as usual, he trailed away, finding his feet walking the short distance to Officer Yokas' room. He glanced inside, still faintly able to hear the shouting of Dr. Morales from the ER.  
  
Sully and Davis were gone now, and she was inside with Kim and Bobby. Seemed she wasn't about to lose company anytime soon.  
  
He opened the door tentatively, stepping inside, and smiling wanly at Yokas. "Hi."  
  
"Hey, Carlos," she greeted him.  
  
'Get Well Soon' cards were sitting on her bedside cabinet, and from the looks of them, they were from her kids. Flowers sat in a vase, and a balloon with 'Get Well, Mommy' hovered near her bed.  
  
Carlos smiled. At least she was getting support from her family.  
  
"What's goin' on?" Bobby asked curiously, obviously realising why Carlos was here in the hospital.  
  
Carlos took a moment to register the words, but when he did he didn't waste time in replying, "We just brought in a kid, no more than eighteen, gunshot wound to the chest. Calls himself Spike or something."  
  
Yokas sat up straight. "Did you say Spike?"  
  
Carlos nodded, noticing by the clock on the wall that his and Doc's shift was over... as was Kim and Bobby's for that matter. The third watch was over for another day.  
  
"Bosco knows a kid called Spike. We often run into him on call," Yokas relayed, her concern playing in her eyes. "How is he?"  
  
Carlos hesitated, before sighing, and shaking his head. "Not good."  
  
Kim glanced back. "Is that your diagnosis or Morales'?"  
  
He shrugged. "Both, I'm guessing. He's in real bad shape."  
  
Bobby stood from his stool, crossing his arms. "What happened to that guy you and Doc brought in earlier?"  
  
"He died on the table, internal bleeding and four broken ribs, one of which had punctured a lung." Carlos moved into the room further, looking up at the brightly coloured balloon, then down into the gaze of Bobby.  
  
"Do you think Wayne shot this kid they brought in?" Kim inquired of Yokas, looking at her momentarily, then at the other paramedics.  
  
"It wouldn't surprise. Maybe Wayne saw Spike talkin' to Bosco and killed him for yappin'," Yokas told them, sinking into her pillows again, looking on the point of passing out right there and then.  
  
"So, apart from you, every call we've had for attacks by this nut-job have... well, died," Carlos ventured hesitantly, wondering inside whether or not to say anything about the subject. He didn't know whether or not the others had noticed.  
  
"Guess what description the woman gave for the guy who knocked down her friend in the park," Kim commented, looking to Carlos.  
  
"You're kidding," Carlos exclaimed. "What are the odds?"  
  
"And I'm betting the little sleezeball had somethin' to do with that poor dead guy in the alley this afternoon too," Yokas offered, sipping at a cup of water.  
  
"You think so?" asked Bobby, not sure whether to reclaim his bedside stool again. He looked down at it twice, before choosing to stay on his feet.  
  
Yokas' next words were a mumble, "It wouldn't surprise me." She sighed heavily, just as the door opened and a figure entered.  
  
It was Doc, looking grave and worn out.  
  
Carlos threw him a look of inquiry, recognising the expression on his veteran partner's face.  
  
"He died?" he asked for clarification, in case he had misread the look.  
  
Doc nodded wordlessly.  
  
"I guess I should count myself lucky, huh?" Yokas said without humour, looking each of them in the eye in turn.  
  
No one spoke a word, just looked to one another.  
  
Carlos felt a little lost. He was the newest member of the group present, and he seemed a little out of place too. The only one of foreign origin. Bobby sometimes sounded like he was from Italy or something, but Carlos wasn't certain, and he wasn't about to inquire in this time of concern and apprehension.  
  
He wasn't even sure why it bothered him, so he sternly told himself to stop thinking about it, and leaned casually against the wall.  
  
He didn't know what else to do.  
  
* * *  
  
Hanging around the fire station after his shift wasn't unusual to Jimmy, and even sitting here with Joey in his arms asleep didn't bother him in the slightest, when normally he would be at home asleep already, and his son would be in bed at the apartment with Kim.  
  
She was at the hospital with Faith, Jimmy knew that, and he didn't mind. He just didn't feel right going home, he felt as though he were needed here for some reason, that going home was wrong.  
  
He knew others felt the same way. Kim and Bobby included.  
  
There was still no sign of Bosco, arrogant hot-headed cop that he was. Jimmy wasn't too keen on him, but he didn't particularly want to see anyone else get hurt. One was more than enough for today.  
  
On more than one occasion, he and Bosco had... what was the word? Disagreed? To put it mildly.  
  
He remembered yearning to smack the guy more than once, and now he felt a little guilty for thinking that, considering he had been missing a little too long for anyone's liking.  
  
Joey stirred in his arms, and Jimmy smiled, holding his son gently, feeling him settle down again. Jimmy softly rested his head against Joey's, and sighed the lightest sigh he could manage without waking his child. Sleep seemed impossible right now, with all that was going on. There was too much going through Jimmy's head to accomplish it, and he knew it was foolish to even try.  
  
Some of the guys had gone out on a minor call for a kitchen fire, and Jimmy had watched them go, debating whether or not to tag along. Considering his shift had ended half an hour ago, he had decided not to, along with the slight factor that he wasn't too keen on leaving his son here without either of his parents.  
  
Kim had trusted him with this responsibility, not long after the sitter had dropped him off at eleven. Kim had gone off to the hospital, promising to be back soon. Jimmy didn't mind, and poor Joey was too shattered to notice. He doubted the kid even knew what was going on anyway. This was perfectly normal for him.  
  
Jimmy stared at the television screen, not really taking anything in, too far away from the remote to do anything about changing the channel, too preoccupied to bother worrying about it.  
  
* * *  
  
His head pounded madly, and his vision took quite a while to clear, before he realised there wasn't anything around him he really recognised anyway. His mind replayed quickly what he last remembered, and he suddenly thought about his radio, which he soon noticed was missing.  
  
He was sat in the corner of a dark and dank room, seemingly absent of windows, and with a door far over the other side of the room that looked ready to collapse in on itself. Connected to the wall next to him was an old broken radiator that threw off no heat whatsoever, and it took him a moment to register that he was cuffed to it by his left hand. His right hand was free, but there wasn't anything left on him anywhere that he could use.  
  
Bosco managed to determine that his backup weapon was gone as well as his regulation gun. How had he gotten himself into this mess?  
  
He didn't have to think too hard or long about it to figure out who must have jumped him either... Wayne Thomson. He must have known Bosco was following him, and laid in wait for him to come into the alley after him.  
  
Congratulations on being predictable, he told himself sarcastically, tugging on the cuff, cursing at the radiator for being the only stable thing in the room. It wasn't budging.  
  
"Dammit," he sighed, and wondered whether Wayne had bothered to relieve him of his key... which he soon determined he had. Why were they never too stupid to bother?  
  
Bosco let his head hit the wall behind him, thinking momentarily afterwards that it hurt a little, and closed his eyes, hearing the muffled noises from the streets outside. Without windows, it was difficult to pick out where he was.  
  
Twisting his wrist in the cuff, he worked out he had been unconscious for near on a whole two hours, and then it came to him... he must be close to where he had been jumped. Who wouldn't notice some dodgy looking creep dragging a cop down the road and not think about calling 911?  
  
His shoulders slumped a little as he realised very few people out this late really cared about the law or what happened to police officers anyway.  
  
He kicked the radiator hard once, shouting loudly in frustration, "Dammit!" 


	7. Chapter 7

"You can go on home if you want, I mean, hell, we're not even supposed to be here," Sully told his partner, glancing to him often as he drove, keeping most of his attention on the road ahead, and part of it on scanning the streets for Bosco.  
  
Davis was resistant. "No thanks. I feel better knowing I'm helping, you know?"  
  
"What about your mom?"  
  
Davis glanced his way, and instead of making a big deal of the subject, replied, "I rang her, told her not to wait up. I didn't tell her what was goin' on though."  
  
Sully nodded his understanding, pulling into a space at the side of the road, and stepping out, saying, "I'll just be a minute."  
  
Davis didn't say anything, and Sully closed the door behind him, striding the short distance to Mahoney, a young kid who often hung around with rough people.  
  
The teenager spotted the police officer, and was immediately paranoid. "What did I do now? Who you been speakin' to, huh?"  
  
"Calm down," Sully told him sternly, holding up a hand, trying not to look too intimidating, "I need to ask you if you know a guy called Wayne Thomson."  
  
Mahoney furrowed his brow and turned his head slightly in confusion. "Why?"  
  
"Do you know him or not?"  
  
"Hey, I don't handle relations, you know? You gotta speak to my man, Spike, he handles communications with people like Thoms-"  
  
"Spike just died, Mahoney," Sully cut in, seeing the stunned expression on the kid's face.  
  
"Was it Thomson?"  
  
"We think so. We guess he saw Spike speaking to one of our officers."  
  
"Then your officer better watch his ass, you know what I'm sayin'?"  
  
Sully wasn't in the mood for this crap, and glanced around to see what Davis was doing, finding the rookie seated contently in the car at the curb. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Mahoney. We haven't seen the officer in almost four hours. Thought you might have seen something... he's about five-eleven, dark hair, moody, you seen him? Name's Boscorelli."  
  
"That guy? Spike knew that guy," Mahoney said quietly, shaking his head. "I ain't seen him in over a week, Sully, man, you know I wouldn't lie to you. You can always tell when I'm lyin'."  
  
"Yeah I can, Mahoney."  
  
Mahoney and Sully stared at each other for a while, before the latter gave a sigh, and nodded. "Alright, Mahoney, keep yourself outta trouble, okay?"  
  
"You know me, Sully."  
  
Just as Sully was about to climb back in the car, the door open, and one leg inside already, Mahoney called to him, "Hey, you better find your friend fast, man, Thomson's one crazy guy. He finds him, he don't stand a chance."  
  
Sully hovered half-in-half-out of the car for a few seconds before sliding all the way in and slamming the door, starting up the engine without looking anywhere besides the road ahead.  
  
* * *  
  
Bosco was busy tugging at the cuff and the radiator, kicking it often, when the door opened, and in walked a familiar figure, dark coat drawn around his scrawny frame, baseball cap pulled down low so that the peak cast a shadow down most of his face.  
  
Bosco looked up at him, and felt all the anger and rage from the past few hours coalesce suddenly, and he gave one giant tug on the cuff, feeling it ache around his wrist from all the times he had tried previously.  
  
Wayne laughed, quietly, manically.  
  
Bosco sat still for a minute, watching the random movements of the guy across the room, seeing his feet shuffle, his eyes dart around. He was a mess.  
  
"Wayne, you don't wanna do this," Bosco tried quietly, trying to keep calm. It wouldn't do him any good to lose his temper now. He needed to get through to this guy, talk with him, convince him that his actions were only making things worse.  
  
Wayne nodded quickly. "Yes, I do."  
  
"You so sure about that? You say you don't wanna go to jail, but... my god," Bosco stared at the disgruntled poor excuse for a man, and continued, "you really are insane."  
  
Bad idea, he thought as a bullet tore into the wall about two feet from him, causing him to start suddenly with the force that ripped into the material. He glanced to the hole, and then up at Wayne, who had already lost interest in what he had just done, and was pacing randomly about the room, walking this way and that, mumbling to himself.  
  
Bosco turned his head from staring at the radiator when he heard a familiar crackle, followed by a muffled voice.  
  
Wayne looked over at Bosco as though he had done something out of turn, and then pulled back one flap of his coat, glancing half-heartedly at the piece of police equipment that stuck out of his pocket.  
  
"Wayne, we can end this before it gets outta hand," Bosco told him, standing as much as he could manage, the radiator being too low to allow him to rise to his full height. "Just hand me the radio, and we can finish this."  
  
Wayne snapped, and raised his voice, saying, "This isn't over yet, and you know it! They won't let me go after what I've done... but..." his voice quietened suddenly, and Bosco furrowed his brow.  
  
Wayne continued, "But I don't remember... it's all so messy." He tapped his head and laughed to himself, turning away from Bosco.  
  
Sighing, and realising just how far this guy had gone over the edge, Bosco spoke to him again, "I know what you did... I remember, Wayne."  
  
The figure turned back to him, and the eyes narrowed. "I don't."  
  
Bosco was quiet for a while, before he was unable to keep it locked in anymore. He clearly remembered seeing Wayne pull that trigger hours ago, hearing the explosion from the barrel, watching it hit Faith. It was too hard to control it anymore. "Well how about I refresh your memory, Wayne, huh? You took a friend of mine hostage, and then shot my partner!"  
  
He heard the rattle of the cuff on the radiator, but ignored it, balling his fist angrily. "You're lucky you're a bad shot, Wayne. If you'd have killed her... I swear you wouldn't live to regret it." His words came out a growl, and he locked eyes with the young man.  
  
Wayne closed in on him, staring right into him. "She didn't die?" He smiled, bit his lip. "I remember her now. I missed?"  
  
Bosco grabbed for him instantly, but he moved back too quickly, and he missed. Wayne laughed insanely, reaching his hands into his pockets distractedly, seemingly not realising what he was doing. His hand came back out, his fist balled around something. Mumbling to himself, he pulled off his coat.  
  
Bosco watched the movements, shaking his head. "My god, what's wrong with you?" he muttered under his breath. Wayne didn't hear... or he ignored him, either way, he threw his coat on the floor in the corner and stared at it, as if waiting for it to move. What was he doing?  
  
"Wayne, listen to me," Bosco attempted, "whatever's goin' through your head, we can get you help."  
  
"I don't need any help from anyone, least of all you," Wayne hissed, turning back on Bosco with wide eyes that stunned the police officer a little, even frightened him somewhat.  
  
The distance between them closed in rapidly as Wayne spoke, "I know what you people are like. You don't care what I'm really like, you just wanna lock me away forever, never let me out again... I know."  
  
Bosco shook his head in disbelief. This guy had no idea what he was really doing. Spike hadn't been exaggerating... Wayne had completely lost it, and he was freaking out.  
  
Wayne's hand latched onto the front of Bosco's uniform and pushed him back with force, the cold eyes staring, the fingers curled so tightly his knuckles had turned white. He was shaking again.  
  
Bosco tried to get Wayne's hand off of him, but failed. Wayne was a hell of a lot stronger than he looked at first glance. Bosco made a mental note to never judge strength by the way the person looked again after today.  
  
"Just let me go, Wayne, and..."  
  
"And what? You can arrest me? No way," Wayne said, letting go slowly, releasing the front of the uniform gradually, and shrinking away. "I'm not going to jail."  
  
He turned his back on Bosco again, giving the officer time to let out a slow breath of relief after the sudden outburst from Wayne. For one minute he had thought Wayne was going to strangle him.  
  
There was that laugh again, and words that Bosco was unable to pick out.  
  
Suddenly, Wayne turned, gun held firmly in his hand. The shaking had subsided.  
  
Bosco felt his eyes widen slightly, even as Wayne fired.  
  
* * *  
  
She had managed roughly ten minutes of sleep before the gut-wrenching feeling had awakened her efficiently. She looked around her hospital room again, wishing to be free of the confines of these walls, and to be able to go out and aid in the search for her missing partner.  
  
She was alone for once, the others having shuffled off some time before her eyes had closed, and sleep had taken a hold of her for that short period.  
  
Faith didn't feel any better for it. She felt on the verge of being physically ill, but pushed the sensation down, and looked around again.  
  
Her eyes narrowed at something settled on her bedside cabinet just beside her cards and flowers, and her hand reached out and picked it up.  
  
It was a radio. But where had it come from? She flipped open the small note laid next to it, and read the words written there in Sully's handwriting.  
  
'Something to keep you updated.'  
  
She had to smile... it was thoughtful. Now they wouldn't have to pop in and see her every half an hour to tell her what was going on, and she wouldn't have to sit here worrying insanely about what she was missing.  
  
Faith was tempted to try and contact Bosco again herself, but resisted the urge. She would stay out of it for now, until called at least. She didn't want her signal to cut off something that was more urgent.  
  
For now, she just had to wait. But whilst she sat patiently, her hand never let go of the radio, her fingers curled securely around it, not wanting to let it go or miss anything.  
  
* * *  
  
Slumped back against the wall, he groaned loudly, and let out a slow breath, his right hand travelling to the hole in his jacket and shirt, where the bullet had hit, throwing him back against the wall.  
  
"Should have guessed you were wearing a vest," Wayne grumbled in disappointment.  
  
The bullet-proof vest had managed to stop the projectile that had hit him just above the abdomen, and he thanked his lucky stars he had remembered to put it on at the start of the shift. He lowered his hand, taking in a breath before saying, "I'm a cop, Wayne... of course I'm wearing a vest."  
  
Wayne had thrown the gun across the room not too long ago, after realising Bosco wasn't about to die anytime soon, and was now curling and uncurling his fingers quickly, and repetitively.  
  
Bosco winced, rubbing the back of his head where he had been struck earlier, lowering his hand instantly at the pain it caused. He looked over as Wayne began fiddling with something that clicked constantly.  
  
It took Bosco a moment to figure out what the object was, but when he did, he shook his head back and forth. "Wayne, don't."  
  
Wayne laughed, eyes never leaving Bosco's. He flicked the lighter open again and again, lighting it every now and then, and waving it to and fro so the flame flickered.  
  
"Why not?" Wayne asked quietly, in a menacing tone, "You scared?"  
  
Dammit, don't worry about letting this guy know how you feel, he thought, and nodded. "Yes."  
  
Wayne moved over, leaning in, and whispered, "Good."  
  
Bosco closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, Wayne was pacing away, over to the corner where he had tossed his coat, and flicked open the lighter, leaving it open.  
  
"Wayne!"  
  
His finger flicked the lighter into life, and he dropped it onto his coat, standing stock-still until a small flame leapt into existence.  
  
"Wayne!" Bosco yelled again, yanking on the cuff desperately, eyes fixed on the fire that was starting to eat away at the coat. The flames spread quickly, melting the fabric, and turning it black. Smoke twisted up from the burning coat.  
  
Wayne looked back at the panicking Bosco, causing him to stop and stare with a pleading look in his eye. He never thought he would be so frightened.  
  
Wayne cocked his head to one side, glanced down at the fire, and tugged the radio out of his pocket, dangling it by its aerial for a minute, before slinging it just in front of him. Bosco saw it hit the floor, about seven feet away from him.  
  
He shook his head, knowing he wasn't going to be able to reach that in time, and heard Wayne move to leave.  
  
"No, wait, Wayne!" he yelled loudly, seeing the figure turn to face him, even as the flames began climbing eagerly up the wall, smoke swirling up to the ceiling. "Please don't do this."  
  
Wayne stared stoically at Bosco, eyes never leaving his.  
  
"Please."  
  
Without a word, Wayne turned, closing the door behind him. Bosco heard a key turn.  
  
"Wayne!" Bosco shouted at the top of his voice. "Wayne!"  
  
A flare in the corner caught his eye, and he turned his head suddenly, feeling his breathing quicken with fear at the sight of the rapidly spreading fire. It was stretching up the wall now, and embers leapt from the coat to the floor. The smoke was starting to fill the ceiling.  
  
His eyes flicked back down to the radio, and he began working on trying to reach it any way he could.  
  
It was his only chance. 


	8. Chapter 8

Kim strode into the station, jogged up the stairs, and made her way straight to the fridge to fetch a bottled water, catching sight of something that made her stop in the corner of her vision. She turned, her hand collecting the bottle as she smiled at the two figures sleeping in the same armchair, the smaller of the two curled up on his father, sleeping soundly, the larger apparently napping too, his head rested on his son's gently.  
  
Kim crossed the distance, nodding to another fireman, and crouched down beside her ex-husband and her son. They both looked so peaceful, so content, so comfortable... it almost seemed a shame to wake either.  
  
Her first instinct was to reach up a hand, and softly touch Joey's head, smiling at the innocence she saw in the young face. Next, she let her hand land on Jimmy's arms, feeling him stir instantly, before his eyes opened, and they locked gazes. He smiled.  
  
"Sorry I was gone so long, I thought Faith could use the company."  
  
Jimmy nodded in understanding. He didn't seem to mind. "It's okay. How's she doing?"  
  
"She seemed worried, and she looked exhausted."  
  
Jimmy grinned. "More so than you?"  
  
Kim shook her head with a wan smile, and stared him in the eye. "He give you any trouble?"  
  
Jimmy shook his own head, yawning slightly, stretching as much as he could without waking Joey.  
  
"Why didn't you take him back to your place? You didn't have to wait for me, you know," Kim said to him softly, looking down at her sleeping son, and wishing for nothing more than to take him in her arms and hold him tight.  
  
"I dunno," Jimmy replied, "I guess I felt like I should stick around. Didn't feel right to just... go home."  
  
Kim sighed. She knew what he meant. But she felt so tired that she had to fight to keep from collapsing where she was crouched. Why was it so hard to just get up and leave? Why did they both feel the obligation to stick around? It wasn't that she didn't care... it was just... well, Joey. The poor kid needed to get some sleep; he had school in the morning.  
  
"Where's Bobby?"  
  
Why were these guys always worried about the position and the activities of the other, that's what Kim wanted to know... it bugged her that one constantly inquired after the other.  
  
"He headed home. He wanted to check up on Mattie."  
  
Jimmy gave a nod, and glanced away. "It's quiet," he said after a moment or two.  
  
Kim stood; crossing her arms after placing her bottled water on the table, and nodded silently in agreement.  
  
It was unsettling, and more than a little ominous.  
  
* * *  
  
The cuff around his wrist was starting to hurt like hell, but he didn't even feel it, just stretched as much as he could manage to try and reach the radio, which was still too far away. It sounded every now and then, and he could barely see it through the thick black smoke that had quickly filled the room.  
  
Bosco clamped his eyes shut, giving a loud shout in frustration, and coughed, bringing up his right arm to use the sleeve to cover his mouth and nose. It didn't ease his breathing, and he was forced to stop and roll over for a moment, keeping his face close to the floor as he gasped for clean air.  
  
He had shouted for help over and over before the smoke had gotten too thick, and the fire had started to fill the far side of the room, burning steadily at the walls, floor and ceiling, flames spreading out further and further gradually, getting closer with every second that passed.  
  
Banging his free hand against the floor once, he steeled his resolved, and gritted his teeth, giving one last stretch, amazed when he felt something solid come into contact with his foot. He choked on smoke as he managed to hook his shoe around it, and drag it over, fumbling around with his hand to grab it swiftly, retracting himself into the corner to get as far away from the smoke and flames as he could. He was starting to feel the intense heat now, and it was making him dizzy and nauseous.  
  
Coughing uncontrollably, he looked to his wrist momentarily, not even registering the cut that had come from his pulling against the metal cuff.  
  
He brought up the radio.  
  
* * *  
  
Sully slammed on the brake when his radio crackled on his shoulder and something undistinguishable came through for a moment.  
  
"You hear that?" Sully snapped to Davis, seeing his partner's rushed nod.  
  
Car horns sounded from behind their unit, but Sully ignored it, and waited patiently for the device to sound again.  
  
"Come on," Sully mumbled, his heart racing at the possibility of what he had heard.  
  
"Can anybody hear me?" came a choked call through the radio, and Sully snatched it immediately from his shoulder.  
  
"Bosco, dammit, is that you?"  
  
"Sully, oh god, you gotta help me!"  
  
Sully cursed, then pressed the button again, and asked, "Bosco, where are you? What happened?"  
  
The sound of choking coughing came through the radio, and for a moment, Sully thought he heard something collapsing, before the weak voice came through again, "I'm in a building... near West-109th... a fire."  
  
"Bosco, get your ass outta there!"  
  
Sully's foot was already back on the accelerator, and Davis had slammed on the sirens, the veteran cop driver letting the vehicle pick up speed and fast.  
  
"I can't!"  
  
The coughing came again, and Sully threw a look to Davis. "Okay, we're on the way. Sit tight."  
  
For a moment, he thought he heard Bosco mumble 'I'm not goin' anywhere'... but he wasn't sure, and he didn't stew over it, just drove like crazy, nodding to Davis to call for help.  
  
* * *  
  
Bosco dropped the radio, slumping to the floor, his body feeling drained, his energy lacking. His chest heaved as he tried to breath, and his eyes wouldn't stay open. He covered his face as much as possible with his sleeve again, trying to roll over, seeing momentarily that the flames were coming towards him at a terrifying rate now. They seemed only inches away, when he knew them to be somewhere between ten and fifteen feet from him, as he sat curled up as tightly as he could manage in the corner. Too close for comfort.  
  
The coughing wouldn't stop now, and his throat hurt because of it. His head pounded, and his heart raced madly, seemingly out of control, his mind chaotic. He wondered if Faith knew what was going on, hoped she didn't know what a mess he had gotten himself into all because he wanted to stop the guy who had hurt her.  
  
He didn't blame her... he blamed himself and his own damn arrogance for wanting to be the tough guy as usual.  
  
Suddenly, the corner section of ceiling gave way, and the plaster collapsed into the orange flames below, disintegrating in the heat almost immediately, the smoke rolling up to the floor above.  
  
Bosco cringed, looking up, and wincing at the pain that ebbed through him, his ears listening for any sound of help arriving. He soon realised he couldn't hear anything over the flames... it seemed so loud he thought he might go deaf.  
  
His vision wouldn't clear, and his throat burned painfully, and he turned his head away from the flame and smoke and as much into the corner as he could manage with his hand locked in the cuff.  
  
Then he heard it.  
  
Was that a siren?  
  
He held his breath for a fraction of a second, determining in his weak state that it was indeed an emergency services siren... but what was it?  
  
"Sully!" he yelled, expecting the police officer would no doubt arrive shortly after Bosco had contacted him... at least he hoped so.  
  
His shout seemed to suck all of the energy out of him, and he felt all the worse afterwards, too weak to keep his arm up anymore.  
  
"Bosco?"  
  
He didn't hear it.  
  
"Bosco, we're outside a building with smoke pourin' out of it... can you hear the siren, Bosco? Answer me!"  
  
Another section of ceiling caved in.  
  
His hand slowly searched the floor... where had he dropped it? He couldn't find the radio.  
  
* * *  
  
"Bosco! Bosco!"  
  
Davis saw that the cop beside him almost slung the radio against the wall of the building, where people were staring up at the stream of smoke that was filtering out of the structure from somewhere up about five floors.  
  
"He can't hear me... that's if he's even in there."  
  
Davis shook his head, snatching off his hat, wondering why he had even bothered to don it in the first place and spoke, "He said a burning building... he mentioned a fire. We're on West-109th. This has to be the place." He frowned deeply. "What if he's unconscious?"  
  
"Then he's in a lot of trouble," Sully grumbled, reaching for the radio again.  
  
"Sully..."  
  
"There!" Sully exclaimed, and responded, "We hear you Bosco, just hang on. Just a little while longer."  
  
Sirens filled the air chaotically all of a sudden, and emergency vehicles started to flood the area. Another police car pulled up, and two officers Sully recognised as Lazenby and Grogan got out. An ambulance followed, and Doc jumped out of the driver's seat, Carlos leaping out the passenger side, bags at the ready, and helmets in their hands. A fire truck followed, horn sounding for people to clear the street, and before the vehicle had even halted, firemen started to pour out of its many doors, Jimmy Doherty being one of them. Kim followed right behind him. Obviously she hadn't gone home at all.  
  
Sully called to Jimmy and Doc, seeing them run over.  
  
"Is this the place?" Doherty blurted, a mask on top of his head, ready to pull down. He held an axe in one hand, and his helmet in the other. Doc had donned his protective headgear already, just in case.  
  
"I sure as hell hope so," Sully replied quickly, nodding up at the high floor over their heads in the building. "Exactly what he described. He doesn't sound too good through the radio. From the looks of it this place is going up fast."  
  
"It's one giant piece of kindling," Doherty commented, shouting frantically to other members of the station, and pulling his mask down, saying, "If he's in there, we'll find him." He donned his helmet, and ran on into the building, multiple fire fighters following right behind him.  
  
Kim came up to Sully and Davis, standing right beside Doc, who had just told Carlos to get a gurney ready, as well as a backboard, just in case. She looked deeply concerned, and shook her head frequently, staring up at the burning building with a furrowed brow, lines of concern creasing her forehead.  
  
Sully knew exactly how she felt... he felt the same way.  
  
* * *  
  
Bobby swerved madly around the corner onto West-109th, not too keen on causing another accident, but desperate to get to the scene and be of any assistance he could. He wished he had been able to pick up Yokas, but Morales had said she shouldn't leave the hospital so early after such an injury.  
  
Bobby knew Faith would want to be there... but what if... no, Bobby didn't want to think negatively.  
  
He screeched to a halt behind all the other vehicles collected at the side of the street, half of them driven right up onto the curb, onto the sidewalk even. It didn't matter.  
  
He yanked the keys out of the ignition, and jumped out of the car, slamming the door and bolting over to where he could see Kim, Sully, Davis, Carlos and Doc standing waiting, as close to the building as was safe. Lazenby and Grogan were keeping the crowd back.  
  
"They gone in already?" Bobby inquired; pointing up at the smoke flooding from the building through a hole they couldn't see clearly but knew was present.  
  
Sully nodded. "Doherty and some others just went in a few minutes ago. They better be careful in there... looks like the whole place is ready to come down."  
  
Kim looked on the verge of collapse. "Come on," she mumbled repetitively, shaking her head.  
  
Bobby rubbed her back soothingly. "It'll be okay."  
  
He hoped he wasn't going to be proven wrong. 


	9. Chapter 9

Jimmy constantly checked rooms for signs of Bosco, coming up empty- handed at every door, and feeling his spirits sink a little with each disappointment. He had to be here somewhere. He hoped they had got the right place. How many other burning buildings could there be around here?  
  
"Bosco!" he called as loudly as he could manage, before he had a sudden thought. If this Thomson guy had been the one to start the fire... then it made sense that the very person they were looking for was pretty close to the fire itself, as terrifying as that concept was, even to a fireman.  
  
"This way!" he yelled to the people behind him, who were checking and double-checking other rooms. They followed without question, equipment in their hands.  
  
Jimmy carefully climbed the stairs, cringing at the sound they gave. This building was in a state. It should have been pulled down long ago from the looks of it. No one had lived here in years from what he could tell.  
  
Jimmy kept on climbing, scanning the short corridors for the familiar glow that he knew to be a sure sign of the flashpoint, or at least a place close to where the fire had started... dammit, he wasn't even thinking straight anymore.  
  
Just before he was about to swing himself round the stairwell to keep climbing, he came to a sudden stop, his eyes catching sight of thick black smoke and a light that he knew in his mind shouldn't have been present unless... they were in the right place.  
  
"Here!" he called to the others, starting to travel the short distance to the door up ahead that was pouring out smoke. He tried the handle, feeling the heat and the resistance that told him this was definitely the right room and that it was locked also.  
  
Jimmy banged on the door. "Bosco!"  
  
He didn't receive a reply. That didn't mean a damn thing to Jimmy... Bosco probably wasn't even conscious anymore, if he was even still alive.  
  
Jimmy took a step back, and braced himself, loosening his shoulders a little, and taking a great swing with his axe.  
  
The wood splintered and cracked, shards falling to the floor with the impact.  
  
Jimmy delivered constant axe blows to the door, each swing carrying more desperation and force than the last, perspiration beading his face, the axe striking the wood again and again until finally, with a solid kick of his boot, Jimmy saw the door fall to pieces.  
  
Thick black smoke exploded from the doorway, and flames danced inside, covering most of the room.  
  
"Bosco!" Jimmy yelled, fighting against the choking smoke to get inside, careful of the position of the fire in relation to himself and the other fire fighters that were right behind him. It was close to the door, a little intimidating. The flames seemed to dance and grab for them, eager to eat away at anything it could get its intensely hot grasp on.  
  
Then he spotted something... or rather, someone, lying motionless over in the corner. He ran over, just as part of the ceiling above them fell, and Jimmy slung his body over the unconscious form of Bosco to protect him, feeling a section of plasterboard hit him square in the small of his back. He ignored the pain that swelled immediately, and moved to grab the prone figure, before he caught sight of what had obviously kept the officer from leaving the room, other than the locked door.  
  
Handcuffs, locked firmly around one wrist and the side of an old radiator. Jimmy glanced to Bosco, and then back at the cuff, before turning his gaze upon his axe. He shook his head a little, before hearing the roar of the flames once again from behind him, and standing in determination, aiming carefully for the busted old heater.  
  
Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a swing, hearing the clang as the blade of his tool came into firm contact with the radiator. It shook wildly, coming loose from the wall. A great dent had formed in the side pole where the cuff was locked.  
  
"Come on!" Jimmy yelled, slamming the weapon against the pole once more time, hearing the snap of the metal as it gave. He immediately went about unhooking the cuff from the pole, and taking Bosco over one shoulder, and turning back.  
  
The flames were eating insanely at anything it met, and they were pretty damn close to the doorway now, concerning Jimmy a little. Making a desperate noise under his breath, he gave a solid shake of his head, and darted from the room, keeping a tight hold of the form over his shoulder.  
  
"Let's go, move it!" he ordered the others, leading the way out, feeling how limp Bosco was as he carried him. He didn't think about it, just kept right on going.  
  
* * *  
  
"There they are!" Kim yelled frantically, seeing the forms emerge from the unstable doorway leading into the building, letting Doc and Carlos through. They were ready, and she was in no state to treat anyone, let alone a fellow member of the third watch.  
  
Jimmy lay an unconscious figure down on the sidewalk, and snatched his helmet and mask off, letting out a couple of long slow breaths. Kim came over, followed by Bobby whilst Doc and Carlos knelt instantly.  
  
Doc went about listening for sounds of breathing, and Carlos took a hold of Bosco's wrist, feeling for a pulse.  
  
For a moment, nothing happened, and Kim feared the worst, before Doc mumbled to himself, resorting to his stethoscope, and then nodded. "He's breathing... just barely."  
  
"Got a pulse... weak and thready." Carlos looked to his training officer.  
  
"Get the backboard," Kim said to Bobby, who nodded and fetched it quickly.  
  
Doc, Carlos and Bobby wasted no time in loading the police officer onto the backboard and securing him to it.  
  
As they were loading him, Doc looked up at Kim suddenly, and snapped a command to her.  
  
"What?" she asked immediately, realising she hadn't heard.  
  
"A collar. I got a head wound." He indicated Bosco.  
  
"Right," she mumbled frantically, grabbing one out of the large bag that sat just near to her foot, handing it to Doc, and watching him fix it around Bosco's neck.  
  
"Okay, let's move!" Doc told them, and the three men lifted as one, sprinting as carefully as they could with their burden over to the bus.  
  
"Carlos, get an IV going!"  
  
* * *  
  
Faith hadn't bothered waiting for a wheelchair, and ran as fast as her feet would carry her, having lost her slippers as soon as she'd hit the corridor. Her arm hung in a sling.  
  
"Bosco!" she screamed, seeing the gurney wheeled in, surrounded by medical personnel... but she recognised enough of the patient to know who it was.  
  
He looked awful. An oxygen mask covered his dirty face, and Kim ran by the side of the gurney, and it looked as though she was squeezing the bag attached to it.  
  
Faith almost stopped when she saw Dr. Morales climb on top of the gurney, careful not to sit on the patient. Her hands moved for the chest.  
  
"My god," she breathed, and ran along after the gurney, hearing the doctor call for assistance.  
  
"Bosco!" she yelled again, feeling her eyes swell with tears. She sniffed, and wiped them away with her good hand as she saw and heard them hook up a heart monitor shortly after wheeling the gurney into a room.  
  
The doors swung closed, and before she could make a move to open them to follow, strong hands took a hold of her, even as she sobbed once.  
  
"Faith, Faith, let them work," came Sully's calm words as he took her in an embrace, turning her gently to hold her soothingly. "Bosco's a strong guy... he'll get through this."  
  
Faith's eyes never left the window that looked through to the ER, and her mind had to work frantically to process what she was seeing.  
  
Dr. Morales held out her hands for paddles, and Faith swallowed chokingly as she watched them cut open Bosco's shirt, and swiftly work at removing his bullet-proof vest.  
  
Another doctor was working on putting a tube down his throat, and Faith realised at that point that she couldn't bear to watch.  
  
She heard the woman call for everyone to clear, and the whine of the heart monitor as Faith kept her head pressed into Sully's chest, breathing rapidly in horror at what was going on.  
  
She hadn't even noticed Bobby, Doherty and Ty come up alongside them. Faith didn't even react when Bobby's gentle hand landed on her back for comfort.  
  
Her knees weakened as all sound was drowned out by one thing.  
  
A single high-pitched whining tone.  
  
* * *  
  
Carlos felt like he had lost control of all his limbs. Nothing would move. The quick movements of the doctors and nurses working frantically to save Officer Boscorelli's life transfixed him. He couldn't look away.  
  
"Charge to three-hundred," Morales ordered quickly, and held up the paddles, not even distracted by the constant movement going on around her. "Come on, Boscorelli, don't you give up on me..." She shook her head quickly, working all the time.  
  
"Clear!"  
  
Closing his eyes, Carlos took a deep breath, and lowered his head, trying to clear his mind, when suddenly; an unexpected sound filled the room.  
  
"We've got a rhythm," a nurse reported, and Morales allowed herself a smile, jabbing the paddles at someone else until they took them off her hands.  
  
"There's a good boy, Boscorelli," she said to her unconscious patient as she worked on him, and turned her head to the two paramedics at the side of the room, saying, "Nieto, see if we can get these cuffs off. They're in the way."  
  
He nodded vigorously, and stepped outside the room, noticing Officer Yokas whirled to him immediately, just as Kim followed him out of the room, trailed by Doc.  
  
"What's goin' on? Is he okay?" The look on Yokas' face was enough to make Carlos momentarily forget his task. Her concern was unmistakable.  
  
"He's okay, they've managed to restart his heart," Doc informed them, and Carlos watched as everyone visibly relaxed.  
  
"Thank god," Yokas said quietly, and stared through the window, looking as though a tornado wouldn't budge her.  
  
Carlos looked to Officer Sullivan. "Um... we need a key for the cuffs."  
  
"Sure," Sully agreed, and dished out a small key and handed it right to Carlos. He took it, and went back into the room, going to Morales' side.  
  
"Thank you," she said to him without thinking, and accepted the key, unlocking the cuff and sighing at the cut beneath it.  
  
Carlos grimaced, even though he had -by far- seen a lot worse injuries in his time as a paramedic. It was just the thought of having to come to terms with the fact that no matter how hard you tried, there was no way to escape. Boscorelli had to have been terrified; especially after realising the cuffs weren't going to give.  
  
"Nieto, you're in my way," Morales told him as gently as possible, which, for her, wasn't too gentle at all.  
  
Carlos gave a nod, looking down at the patient, and then leaving the room without question, back out into the hall where the familiar faces of the third watch waited, Yokas standing as close to the window as she could manage to watch the doctors and nurses work on her partner. 


	10. Chapter 10

She let Dana Murphy wheel her into the room, too tired to move herself around, and with one arm hanging in a sling, she felt a little helpless, as though she couldn't do much on her own right now. She thought she might end up wheeling herself in circles if she tried.  
  
So she had called for assistance to see her partner and check up on how he was doing. Dana was more than happy to oblige, and she had brought a wheelchair right on down. Faith had barely spoken on the way down, and she felt a little nervous outside the door to the room.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Faith gave a silent nod, and let herself be led inside. Dr. Morales was jotting something down on her chart, looking down pensively at her patient for a moment, and then writing quickly.  
  
She turned at the sound of the door opening, and threw a gentle smile in Faith's direction, one the female officer returned.  
  
Dana pushed the wheelchair up to the bedside, and then left without a word, closing the door behind her. Faith watched her go, and then turned her gaze upon the doctor.  
  
"How's he doin'?"  
  
During Morales' pensive recollection of facts, Faith took the time to look at her partner as he lay breathing shallowly on the bed before her, his chest rising and falling every few seconds. He was hooked up to a heart monitor, which sounded quietly but noticeably, the rhythm steady and reassuring. There was an IV in his arm, leading up to a bag that hung over the bed. An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose, helping him to breathe and clear his lungs. They had taken the time to clear up his face, and Faith smiled at the thoughtfulness, despite it being part of their job... or so she supposed. A bandage covered his left wrist where the handcuff had apparently broken the skin. Faith frowned, and reached up a hand tentatively, taking a hold of his and squeezing it slightly, as if in reassurance.  
  
"He inhaled a lot of smoke, and so we're keeping the mask on to help him clear his system. He has a little bruising around the area where a bullet hit his vest at reasonably close range, and he has a mild concussion from a blow to the back of the head. Apart from that, it's just the cut on his wrist... there shouldn't be any scarring." Morales looked down on Faith, and landed a hand on her shoulder for comfort. "You and your partner are incredibly lucky... it could have been a lot worse for both of you, you know that?"  
  
Faith smiled, looking down at Bosco's face. He looked so peaceful as he rested... it wasn't normal for him. She was used to the angry look in the eye, the passion that made him so damn good at what he did, and often got him into trouble. The mischief was gone too, and it saddened her, unable to see the youthful eagerness that went into his everyday attitude.  
  
"He's always been that way," Faith told the doctor, and laughed quietly, to herself mostly. "I'm not so sure why I got off light."  
  
Morales was silent for a moment as she considered two of her patients, partners, best friends. After a while, she nodded, and let a smile touch her lips as she said, "Maybe he shared some of his luck."  
  
Faith looked up instantly, her eyes meeting the female doctor's, and she furrowed her brow ever so slightly in pensive contemplation. Then she smiled, and glanced back down to Bosco.  
  
Morales turned and walked away, leaving the two officers behind.  
  
Faith barely noticed Morales' absence after the woman was gone, her eyes never leaving the somewhat pained face of her dearest friend. She managed to move her wheelchair closer, her hand leaving his for a time. She rested it on the mattress beside him as he slept.  
  
"Bos', I know you probably can't hear me," Faith began, feeling just a little foolish, before composing herself, and continuing, "but I appreciate what you tried to do, no matter how stupid it was."  
  
She reached up and stroked his hair back off his forehead, her hand falling back to her lap afterwards as she spoke further, "You've always looked out for me... and I realised today as I was lyin' there worryin' sick about you..." she hesitated, staring at him for a moment in his helpless and weak state, before finishing her sentence with sincerity and affection, "I never told you how much it means to me... how much you mean to me, Bos'."  
  
Faith shook her head; her feathered hair falling around her face to shroud her features slightly, before she reached up with her good hand and tucked it back again. "I thought I'd lost you today."  
  
A tear rolled down her cheek, and she sniffed quietly, embarrassed, despite the blatantly obvious fact that she knew she was alone. "Bosco... I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you."  
  
She waited for a response that she had gotten used to hearing almost instantly from him, and when it didn't come, she felt more tears well, annoyed that she was being so sensitive.  
  
"I don't know why you always feel the need to scare the crap outta me," she laughed, her voice wavering, and she stroked his arm a couple of times, thinking about what else she wanted to say, what she needed to get out of her system whilst she had the chance she didn't think she would get again.  
  
"When..." she paused, smiling in recollection, "when I was paired with you, I thought I would never get any serious work done... that you would constantly screw up procedure... but, dammit, Bos', you go by the book more than I do half the time."  
  
She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.  
  
"I don't know how you got so passionate about what you do, but it amazes me how much you care, when you seem so carefree all the time."  
  
Her gaze lowered, her head bowing as she mumbled, "I sometimes wish I could be more like you." Her eyes came back up, and she blinked back tears.  
  
The room was quiet, near on silent, seemingly cut off from the rest of the world, and it was just Bosco and Faith... nothing else mattered right now. Nothing could touch them or hurt them here, and Faith felt secure with her partner, by his side. She felt the sense of equilibrium return and settle comfortably in her being. She felt whole again, like a missing piece of her had been returned after being lost for an unbearable time that had pained her immensely.  
  
"I get so scared sometimes, Bosco, and you're the only thing that I can believe in out there," she told his unconscious form. "I couldn't do this job without you, Bos'... and I wanted you to know that. I wanted you to know how much you really mean to me."  
  
Taking a deep breath, she felt her emotions swell at the words she had just spoken, and she looked briefly to Bosco again, and then couldn't hold it in anymore, no matter how hard she tried. It all started to rise up within her, escaping after a great period of blocking it all out. It was too much for her to handle right now... her own experience, Bosco's disappearance, and then his dramatic resuscitation in the ER. She remembered it all, and it flowed out of her in her tears, and her shaking.  
  
Faith lowered her head to the mattress, her hand coming up to hold the sheet that covered most of her partner's body. Her fingers curled around the fabric so tightly, it hurt a little, but she didn't feel it. All she felt was the overwhelming relief and gratitude.  
  
A hand stroked her hair softly and slowly, and her eyes lifted, her head rising, and she gasped slightly, seeing Bosco's eyes open halfway, weakly. He was awake.  
  
"Bos'," she breathed happily, and rose from her wheelchair, taking a hold of his hand, and they gripped each other for a moment, silently, eyes looking into one another.  
  
She released his hand, feeling it loosen, laying it back down gently on the bed. She ran a hand over his hair to let him know she was still here. He seemed barely able to keep his eyes open.  
  
"I thought you'd gotten yourself killed, you know that?" she said, her tone gentle, shaking her head. "You scared the crap outta me badly."  
  
He closed his eyes briefly, apparently too fatigued to speak, and nodded slowly.  
  
Faith sighed. "I'd ask you to promise me never to do that again... but I know you too well."  
  
She thought she saw a smile, but she wasn't sure.  
  
She wiped away a tear. "You'd never be able to keep it."  
  
Bosco reached up a hand for her, and Faith leaned down and embraced him as tightly as she dared in his weak state, sobbing as she felt the movement of his chest as he breathed. She didn't want to let go. She didn't dare, for fear of losing him.  
  
His left hand rested on her back, his right coming up to stroke her hair soothingly, and she shuddered, so unaccustomed to his touch.  
  
Faith never wanted to let go.  
  
* * *  
  
She hadn't left the room all night, and when the sun rose slowly in the early hours of the morning, she had stared out at it, sitting beside the window now, the blinds open to let in the refreshing light after such a traumatic evening.  
  
It felt good to have the sun touch her skin again. Yesterday, she had thought, just for a second as the bullet hit her, that she would never see it again, never witness its everyday beauty. It amazed her that something so gorgeous could -if only for a second- brighten a world that was so dark, so full of terror and destruction, where everyday she witnessed horrors that were unspeakable, horrors that sometimes kept her awake at night.  
  
Faith turned her head to see Bosco was still sleeping, and smiled at the corner of her mouth, discreetly. His head was turned away from her slightly, and for a moment she simply sat and watched the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest.  
  
He had been checked on several times during the night and early hours of the morning since he had been brought in, and Faith had been awake for pretty much all of it, and now she felt exhausted as a result. She just didn't feel comfortable leaving. She felt obligated to stay with her partner, keep an eye out for him, even in the confined space of the hospital room. Faith wanted to watch over him, like she knew he had for her. It was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place.  
  
The door opened quietly, and she managed to turn her wheelchair with her good arm to greet the person who stepped inside, throwing a smile her way. It was Sully.  
  
"Hi," he said in greeting, and pocketed his hands, as was his usual custom.  
  
She nodded in acknowledgement, and mumbled a response, "Hey."  
  
"How you feeling this morning?" Sully inquired curiously, stepping forward a metre or so, closer to Faith and the bedside where Bosco slept.  
  
She took a silent moment to consider the reply she should give, before saying quietly, "Better, knowing that he's okay." Her eyes floated to Bosco.  
  
"Yeah..." Sully agreed. "How is he?"  
  
Faith shook her head, and shrugged her good shoulder, feeling a little off-balance for a second. "I'm not sure. Morales said he was gonna be fine, but he just seems so..."  
  
She couldn't find the word, and she closed her mouth as she thought, her eyes never leaving her resting partner.  
  
"Helpless?"  
  
Faith glanced to Sully as the older man stood there, looking down on her with compassion and understanding, the level of empathy in his eyes astounding. She had always been able to confide in Sully, ever since she had first started, and the veteran police officer had always been there when she needed him. He was a decent man, one of the best she knew.  
  
She sighed. "Yeah. I've never seen him like this before." She paused, swallowing dryly. "It's a little scary, you know?"  
  
Sully nodded wisely, and let out a deep breath. "I know. Someone with Bosco's strength... when you see 'em like this, it throws you off, you don't know where you stand." He gave a small laugh. "I remember when he first arrived at 55th, you too. I took one look at Bosco, and thought 'My god, he's not gonna last six months'. I'd seen his type before. They came and went within their first year... realised they weren't as well-suited for the job as they had obviously thought they were." He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. "But not Bosco. He was different... hell, still is. There's not two of him in the city."  
  
"You've got that right." Faith smiled.  
  
Sully considered the woman for a while, and Faith could feel his eyes on her, but she ignored it, managing to move a little closer to Bosco's bedside.  
  
"Are you glad they paired you up with him?" he asked suddenly, the question confusing her for a moment.  
  
Then she nodded. "Yeah. I never realised how lucky I was for that until now."  
  
Sully didn't speak again, just nodded in understanding.  
  
For a long while, the heart monitor made the only noise audible in the room, and all seemed peaceful. The scene would have been relaxing if not for the two hospitalised officers, one in a wheelchair, the other unconscious, resting. Both looked weak and worn, but somehow, seeing them together somehow made the picture whole, as though one would seem lonely without the other.  
  
"Has there been any word on Thomson?" Faith asked, her words controlled, her anger subdued for the moment.  
  
She didn't look up, couldn't see the expression or emotion on Sully's face as he replied, "None yet. Cops are combing the area; they figure he couldn't have gone far. They're checkin' up with locals, asking about his usual haunts."  
  
Faith took in a long slow breath, and closed her eyes for a moment. "We can't let him get away with what he's done to us, Sully. We have to catch him."  
  
"I know, Faith," Sully said to her in agreement.  
  
Faith blinked back the swelling tears that threatened to betray her emotions again, and continued, "I want to see him stopped..." Her voice trailed off.  
  
Sully removed his hands from his pockets. "Like I said, we're following some leads. You two have just gotta concentrate on getting better, you hear me?"  
  
Faith looked up at him, ignorant through her anger of the hair that had fallen around her face like a limp frame. "Sully, what if he comes here? What if he comes to Mercy?"  
  
The question seemed to have Sully taken aback, and he shook his head and shrugged for a moment. "I'll see if we can get guards posted outside your rooms, in case he comes back. I doubt he's that stupid, Faith. From what I've heard about the guy, he doesn't seem too bothered about what he has and hasn't done. He might not even remember you."  
  
Faith wasn't convinced. She had a bad feeling. Something deep inside her was screaming at her to protect herself and her best friend... that even here in the hospital they weren't safe at all... danger was lurking just around the corner, and it had blood and death on its mind. 


	11. Chapter 11

Sully walked through the open doors of Mercy hospital, and breathed a heavy sigh, mind playing back swiftly over his conversation with Yokas, and seeing Bosco lying in that bed. It had him a little thrown. He wasn't about to dwell on it and let it interfere with his job though. He was on at three, as per usual, and he wanted his mind on the job.  
  
Walking back to his car, he climbed inside, and switched on the engine, driving away without looking back. He knew deep in his mind that Yokas was right... no one was really safe from this psycho, Wayne Thomson, and since no one had seen him since late last night, Sully realised he had to be on high alert. He needed to keep his guard up.  
  
He remembered being one of the last ones to leave the hospital last night, after comforting Yokas during the whole experience of Bosco being brought back from the edges of life, and then whilst he was stabilised and transported to a room. Sully had hung around for a little while after that, before Yokas had told him to go home, because he looked on the verge of collapse from exhaustion.  
  
Sully had reluctantly agreed, and managed a pitiful four hours sleep... which he guessed was more than what Yokas herself had accomplished. He doubted she had slept all night, doubted she would until she knew Thomson was off the streets.  
  
Sully was eager to see the guy put away where he couldn't hurt anyway as well, but he knew his thoughts on the matter and their magnitude didn't compare with that of his fellow officer and one of the victims. Yokas was taking this all very personally, and he had no doubt Bosco was feeling the same way.  
  
He hoped Bosco learned from this experience, knew for the future that going off on his own with vengeance on his mind wasn't exactly smart. Bosco wasn't one of the brightest guys on the force, but he was a great cop... so dedicated to what he did. He couldn't get through the day if something was bothering him, and there wasn't closure on a case.  
  
Sully had seen a glimmer of potential inside Boscorelli, and that had only continued to grow with every month or so. He had no doubt in his mind that from learning from all of his many mistakes, Bosco would be a damn fine cop, one of the best in the area.  
  
Sully had to admit Bosco didn't have far to go.  
  
* * *  
  
The shift had started at three as usual, and Doc was feeling refreshed from the small amount of sleep he had managed. He remembered how bad it had been when Jerry had been shot on duty, and how he had barely been able to sleep for near on a week as a result. It had shaken him bad, and this was almost as awful. Now Jerry didn't work anymore due to his injuries, and Doc missed his partner, wished he hadn't decided to take early retirement, as such.  
  
It wasn't that he hated Carlos, just that the damn kid thought he was always right, that his opinion outshone everyone else's. It annoyed the hell out of Doc, and he had to fight to resist punching Carlos for his ignorant behaviour sometimes. But Carlos was a good paramedic when he put his mind to it, and he just got down to actually concentrating on saving the patient instead of impressing anyone.  
  
"Have they found the shooter guy yet?"  
  
Doc looked over from his concentration point on the road, and regarded Carlos for a moment, seeing the seriousness in his eyes. He couldn't deny the young paramedic a response. "Not that I know of. We were told this morning to keep an eye out for someone matching his description."  
  
Carlos simply nodded silently, and turned his attention back on the road ahead, eyes often scanning the sidewalks.  
  
Doc watched his trainee every now and then, glancing away immediately if Carlos' head turned. He didn't want Carlos to know he was being watched. It might unsettle him.  
  
Doc had visited the hospital a little while before his shift, just after midday, and had swung by Bosco's room, finding Yokas in there too, sitting stoically by her partner's bedside, good arm rested on the mattress. Her eyes had barely lifted from Bosco as the male officer slept peacefully. Doc had stayed for near on half an hour before forcing himself to leave and let Yokas get some peace and quiet, some freedom from the other members of the third watch.  
  
He wondered if the police station could manage with one whole unit off the road, but he didn't doubt that they could replace them until they were well enough to return to duty together. Yokas would probably return a week or so before Bosco... or not. It all depended on the rate of her recovery. Doc didn't dwell, and he reminded himself to concentrate on his job.  
  
They hadn't had a call since they had started.  
  
* * *  
  
"Hey, Sully, man, you back out to bug me again today, huh?" Mahoney called to the police officer as he stepped out of the squad car onto the sidewalk beside the rough youth.  
  
Davis exited the vehicle as well this time, too on edge to be sitting inside the unit half the day whilst Sully tried to gather useful information from bums off the street. But if it helped, then Ty was going to keep his mouth shut, at least until he had an idea or a valid opinion.  
  
"Hey, Mahoney," Sully greeted without effort, and came to a stop before the younger man, looking down on him. Sully made the guy look short, and Davis found it a little relaxing to know that his partner intimidated the potential source of information. That on top of the fact that Sully often had run-ins with this guy was a good sign that they would find something out.  
  
"You find your friend, Sully?" Mahoney inquired, squinting in the New York sunshine that Davis found a little surprising. It had been reasonably cold for the past few days, and now the clouds had parted and the light was beaming down on them. It felt good.  
  
"Yeah we did," Sully replied calmly, but with a hint of irritation. "Thomson trapped him in a building and set it alight. We got him out in time though. He's in the hospital."  
  
Mahoney's eyes widened. "Whoa..." He shook his head swiftly, and then glanced back at Sully. "Now you see why I don't deal with that psycho, huh?"  
  
Sully nodded. "Yeah, I get it, Mahoney, but I need a favour... I need to know if you've seen him, and I need to know right now... no games."  
  
Mahoney frowned, and furrowed his brow in confusion, eyes flicking quickly between Davis and Sully, as though he wasn't sure who to direct his reply at when he finally responded, "Last time someone spoke, they got a bullet, man. You wanna see me dead?"  
  
Sully moved a step closer, tone lowering and edging with menace. "I thought I said no games, Mahoney. I don't think you understand how serious this is... we have two police officers in the hospital, and three dead civilians. Thomson is responsible for it all. Now, I need your help in taking him off the streets so it's safe for everyone else. Do you want to see him kill someone else? What if he comes after you next?"  
  
Mahoney shuffled on his sneakered feet nervously, and fumbled over his words, no longer so tough on the outside, his true cowardly self shining through clearly. He was frightened, like a young child in a new and dangerous situation they weren't so sure they wanted to understand. He swallowed noticeably, then said, "Okay, Sully, man, you ain't gotta be in my face like that. You know I'd always help you if I can, right?"  
  
"So help me out, Mahoney, what did you see?" Sully demanded, beginning to lose his temper, but controlling it well.  
  
Davis watched the exchange from a few feet back, by the squad, keeping out of the dealings. He was taking it all in, seeing if he could learn anything from it.  
  
"I saw Thomson."  
  
Sully nodded. "Okay, where?"  
  
Mahoney thought carefully for a moment, and glanced up as if in pensive consideration. "He was headed towards the hospital last I saw, man, that's the truth."  
  
Sully glanced back at Davis immediately. Davis looked to Sully.  
  
"What hospital?"  
  
"I dunno..."  
  
"Was it Angel of Mercy, Mahoney? Was it Mercy?"  
  
Mahoney stared at Sully for a moment, then at Davis, and then bit his lip and nodded. "Yeah, man, it was Mercy."  
  
"Dammit," Sully breathed angrily, and quickly inquired, "how long ago was it, Mahoney?"  
  
Again, the rough youth shook his head as if in contemplation. "Must have been about a half hour. I didn't dare go near him. I turned tail and ran for my life, Sully, you know?"  
  
Sully turned away, and called back without looking, "Thanks, Mahoney."  
  
"Anytime, Sully, man, you know where to find me!"  
  
Sully slammed the door to the squad just as Davis stepped inside. Already, he was feeling a sense of déjà vu. This had been how it had played out last night... pretty much. It was a little frightening, to have something like this happen... it was confusing to Davis, but he just concentrated on rationally thinking things through and making wise decisions.  
  
"Central, this is 5-5-David. We have a lead on Wayne Thomson, spotted heading towards Mercy hospital. Be advised, suspect is presumed armed and dangerous, and may intend on picking up where he left off." Sully released the radio, waiting for a response.  
  
"5-5-David, this is Central, ten-four. Units en route."  
  
Sully put as much pressure on the gas as the pedal would allow, and slammed his hand on the button.  
  
The siren wailed.  
  
* * *  
  
Dana Murphy was busy going over a chart when she heard the phone ringing, and reached over subconsciously to pick it up. She responded as she always did, her eyes never leaving her chart.  
  
The voice on the other end was familiar at once, and she stood bolt upright at the words spoken.  
  
"Bobby, is that you? Calm down," she instructed.  
  
She heard a deep breath from the other end, before his voice came through once more, slower, more controlled, as he said, "Dana, someone spotted our shooter heading to Mercy. Have you seen him?"  
  
"Bobby, I never heard a description. I wasn't told anything," Dana elaborated, shaking her head, hand on her hip, chart forgotten for the time being.  
  
"Has anybody wearing a baseball cap come into the hospital?"  
  
Dana furrowed her brow, and tilted her head slightly. "Bobby, you know how many people come through these doors each day? Take a guess at how many wear caps and hats."  
  
"Okay... um." He went quiet for moment, and she thought she heard quiet conversing in the background. She identified Kim's voice, and Dana guessed the woman was driving. "He's about six foot, white, kinda... creepy."  
  
"Was he wearing a grubby sweater?"  
  
There was a moment of silence, and more speaking on the other end. "What colour?"  
  
"I think it was grey. I can't be certain. He had jeans and black sneakers on though. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties. Kinda stuck out... even in this place," Dana explained, looking over her shoulder as people milled about their everyday business, whether they be patient or attending, cleaner or nurse.  
  
"Dammit," she heard him mutter under his breath. "Okay, Dana, listen carefully, get security. Wayne Thomson is in the building, and we're assuming he's armed and extremely dangerous."  
  
"What is he doing here?" Dana asked abruptly, waving a guard over, seeing the stocky man notice her, and move over.  
  
"When was the last time someone checked on Yokas and Bosco?"  
  
Dana dropped the phone, and headed off at a run, the security guard right behind her. 


	12. Chapter 12

A shadow playing across the halfway-closed blinds at the doorway caught Faith's eye, and her head turned immediately in that direction, her guard up at once, her senses alert... even for a woman who had recently been shot and hadn't slept in hours.  
  
She glanced down at Bosco, blinked once, and heard the handle move. Her eyes floated to the door, seeing the slow movement of the metal handle. It clicked open, but by that time, Faith was already standing, heart racing.  
  
The figure that appeared in the cracked doorway made her start slightly, and she felt the terror wash through her anew, even as she moved to press the aid button.  
  
The door closed quietly, and Wayne was soon removing a gun, shaking his head. Faith lowered her good hand, and swallowed, her throat suddenly unbearably dry. Her breathing had quickened suddenly, and she could feel her heart thumping in her chest, as thought it was about to burst.  
  
"What are you doin' here?" she demanded, voice wavering. She tried to steady it, but she was ashamed to admit to herself that she had never been so frightened before... at least not that she could remember.  
  
Wayne laughed quietly, beneath his breath almost, and the crazed eyes turned to her, and then fell on Bosco. "I remember you two. You're not dead."  
  
Faith shook her head, seeing him reach back and turn the lock, sealing them in.  
  
"No, we're alive, and we're gonna stay that way, right, Wayne... all of us." She took in a deep breath to try and calm herself, and continued, "I'll tell you what's gonna happen, Wayne. You're going to put down the gun, after removing the clip, and kick it away. Then you're gonna unlock the door, and turn yourself in to the closest security guard we can find... I'm not going to let you hurt anyone else."  
  
Wayne's smile fell at once, and the dead eyes bore into Faith, chilling her unexplainably. "I've already hurt you... him too. What difference does it make?"  
  
Faith glanced down at her partner, who was blissfully ignorant to the danger that threatened him. "Killing us won't help you."  
  
Wayne nodded. "Yes it will. If you're dead... then it's over..."  
  
Faith had no idea what he was talking about, and she doubted he did either, which was the thing that worried her. That on top of the fact that he was the one holding a gun made something deep within her turn end over end, making her feel a little dizzy and nauseous.  
  
"Wayne," she tried again, watching the chilling gaze land on Bosco, "if you do this, your life is over. Nothing else will matter. Killing us is only going to make matters worse." She edged around the bed, trying to keep the cold eyes on her, distracting him from the helpless male officer that lay resting, unaware. "You claim you don't want to go to jail, but from what I've seen... no matter what you do now, it isn't going to matter. You're in too deep here, Wayne, and the only way to help yourself is to put down the gun."  
  
He laughed louder then, and half-lowered his weapon. At first Faith thought it was due to her words, but then she realised where the barrel of the gun was aiming.  
  
Her nerves returned immediately, and she came to stand in front of the gun's end, her words little more than a growl. "Don't you dare hurt him anymore than you already have."  
  
Wayne brought the gun up to her neck, and leaned in, whispering, "I dare." He stared deep into her for a few seconds, before cocking his head like a confused predator, saying, "Unless you want to go first?"  
  
Faith wouldn't let herself be intimidated anymore. Wayne had gone too far, and she planned to do whatever she could to stop him... no matter what. She stared right back into him, seeing nothing but hatred and confusion in the eyes. "No one's going to die, Wayne, remember? Not me, not my partner... not even you."  
  
And then suddenly, he had a hold of her, around the neck, and he had forced her back, her back hitting the rail that was raised on Bosco's bed, and she winced, fear racing through her body again, causing her to shudder momentarily.  
  
"You expect me to believe a single word you say? You're just like everyone else. No one ever wanted the best for me... they just wanted me out of the way... locked up, forever. They never wanted to let me out."  
  
"That's because you're insane!" she found herself saying as loudly as she could manage, shocking herself with her bravery. She knew instantly that her words could end her life, and that of her partner. She wanted to take it back, but she desperately yearned to tear into Wayne for what he had done.  
  
The cold, dead eyes hardened, and he shook his head slowly, no longer amused. His grip tightened, and he slung her aside with enough force to jar her on landing, stunning her. She winced, and gasped at the pain in her arm.  
  
Through the haze of dizziness that caught a sudden hold of her, she saw the form of Wayne Thomson closing in on her.  
  
* * *  
  
A gunshot filled the air in the corridor, and Sully almost skidded to a halt with the suddenness of it, and then reminded himself of the urgency of the matter, running as fast as his legs would carry him, and cursing himself for his love of fast food.  
  
Dana Murphy and three security guards were at the door to Boscorelli's room, and seemed unable to gain entry. The nurse looked shocked at the loud explosion of noise that had just erupted from behind that locked door. The security guards had flinched, and were battling with trying to open the barrier between them, the two officers in danger, and the shooter.  
  
"Have you been able to hear anything?" Sully barked on arrival, Davis right behind him, who went immediately to assist in opening the door.  
  
"Not really," Dana managed in her shock, and shook her head. "I've been able to pick out a few words, but... after the shot, it's been too quiet in there. We can't get in. I think he might have barricaded the door or something."  
  
"Let's hope that was a warning shot," Sully mumbled, just in the range of audible.  
  
Dana nodded wordlessly, even as the four men began banging on the door with their weight to try and break it down.  
  
* * *  
  
Bosco watched Wayne Thomson turn to him, seemingly not even fazed by the bullet that had just grazed his right shoulder, ripping through the fabric of his grungy sweater and drawing blood.  
  
His hand shook, his finger still positioned on the trigger, ready to fire again if need be. With his free hand, he reached up slowly and pulled off the oxygen mask, breathing deeply, his lungs still not fully recovered from the large amount of thick smoke he had inhaled thanks to the man who stood before him.  
  
This was the same man who had shot and wounded his partner... the same psychopathic killer who stood looming over her now as she lay stunned on the floor, seemingly halfway between consciousness and passing out entirely.  
  
"It's okay, Faith," Bosco managed, the words slow and calm.  
  
The constant banging of the door was barely even audible to him, as he continued to keep all of his available attention on Wayne, and just what he was doing.  
  
The eyes were staring directly at him, accusingly, daring him to fire again.  
  
Bosco didn't know what to do. This one man had hurt so many people... he had hurt Bosco himself, even wounded his partner and best friend. But he didn't want to kill him unless... unless he had no choice.  
  
As the two stared at each other, like two predators facing each other off from a kill, one imposing on the other's territory, Bosco felt the relief sweep through him in realising that Faith had clearly had enough sense to keep a weapon nearby. Bosco didn't know where she had gotten it. It wasn't hers, and it sure as hell wasn't his. Wayne had taken his. He didn't care to dwell on where it had come from right now, just that it was there.  
  
"Wayne, move away from her," Bosco ordered, his voice stern and enforcing.  
  
The young man didn't falter, barely even blinked. He didn't even seem bothered about the blood running down his sleeve. Bosco doubted he even had enough sanity left to feel pain anymore.  
  
"Now!"  
  
The desperation of his call surprised him, and drew a lot of his energy out of him. But still, the thought of the possibility of Wayne hurting Faith further... maybe even killing her, was enough to keep Bosco conscious for the time being.  
  
Wayne and Bosco locked gazes for what seemed like an eternity of hatred and loathing, but what was -in reality- only a few moments, before the tall man looming over Faith removed something from his belt, something that Bosco had missed before.  
  
He caught a flash of it in the light, the rays of sunshine that shone through the blinds reflecting off the silver casing of a gun... Bosco's own weapon.  
  
His finger squeezed the trigger.  
  
* * *  
  
The sound of the three sharp explosions made Faith start badly, and she found she curled herself up protectively, despite the pain in her arm from being tossed to the floor. When the noise stopped, she looked up, seeing blood on the floor, but no body.  
  
"Bosco!" she practically screamed, seeing Wayne now almost on top of him, his hands locked firmly on her partner, one around his throat chokingly, the other keeping the gun from firing on him again. Wayne was shouting inaudibly now, his cries frightening, causing Faith to shiver for an instant, before her gaze fell on something dropped, discarded, forgotten.  
  
Her hand reached out for it, and her fingers curled around the object, and she struggled to heft the weight, which seemed a thousand times greater than it should, until she instinctively felt it was high enough.  
  
Faith felt the first bullet tear out of the mouth of the gun, and she thought for one horrifying moment that she had aimed too low... that she would hit her partner.  
  
The projectile ripped into Wayne's flesh, and he didn't even scream in agony, just released Bosco, who almost fell from his bed, gasping for air, in obvious pain, holding the area where the attacker had had a deathly unyielding hold of him, his eyes closed tight.  
  
Wayne whirled on her, his eyes crazed, bloodshot, even as he started to descend on her like an insane animal, out of its mind.  
  
She forced herself to her feet, her gaze unwavering as she fired bullet after bullet, barely noticing her partner flinch away and back onto the bed, despite his weak condition. The gun continued to fire, until it clicked on empty, and she was holding just the shell of a potentially fatal weapon.  
  
Wayne stood before her, his body riddled with bullets, sucking in rasping breaths, covered in blood that ebbed and flowed freely. His hand grabbed for her feebly, and landed on her good shoulder, reaching for her neck in a last desperate attempt to choke.  
  
Faith felt a tear fall, and then another, and another, her eyes closing tightly against the emotions that swelled and tormented her suddenly at the insane last moments of this man who clutched weakly with shaking hands at her throat and face, blood tipping his fingers and marring her skin.  
  
Choking back a sob, she saw out of the corner of her eye that Bosco was watching her, still gasping for breath, hunched over in his bed.  
  
Reaching up her good hand, dropping the useless weapon to the floor, she removed the clutching fingers from her skin, and released them, witnessing them fall immediately to Wayne's side. Her hand reached out as he grabbed again, his eyes glazing over, and gave a final push on the man, sending him falling finally to the floor.  
  
Wayne collapsed at once, unable to fight the force she had applied, and his body hit the floor with a dull thud. His breathing had slowed, and his hat had been dislodged ever so slightly to reveal short blonde greasy hair. The gaze was fixed on Faith, as the woman stood unwavering over his dying body, her eyes witnessing the last moments of Wayne Thomson... the man who had ruined so many lives in one day... the man who had nearly destroyed Yokas and Bosco.  
  
She had vowed to stop him, and she knew, even through her regret, that she had.  
  
* * *  
  
Bosco felt Faith fall into his arms as she managed to stumbled over to his bedside, still in shock as to what she had done, her sobs small and quiet, her tears constant and free flowing.  
  
He clutched her tight, knowing she had saved his life, and he had saved hers. They had protected one another, and it had tried them both. Neither one had expected to kill him... even though Bosco had managed to convince himself that he wanted to.  
  
Bosco's chest heaved as he tried to get his breathing back to normal, and he embraced his partner more securely, feeling her weight on the bed now, the woman no longer able to keep herself upright. He pulled her close to him, feeling her shivering form, and he whispered to her comfortingly. He closed his eyes against the sight of the dead body on the floor, lifeless eyes still staring to where Faith had been standing, and continued to rock his partner back and forth.  
  
It was at that point that the window broke loudly, and glass fell into the room, large broken slivers clinging in the frame, even as an arm reached around carefully and unlocked the door, hand pushing through the blinds.  
  
Sully was the first one in the door, gun in his hands, Davis right behind him, weapon raised as well. They both relaxed when they saw who had been the casualty, and that the two officers were a little shaken, but otherwise unharmed.  
  
Bosco locked eyes with Sully, and rubbed his hand up and down Faith's back as she cried softly into his shoulder.  
  
"It's okay, Faith, it's over... it's over," he whispered to her soothingly, telling her constantly that she had done the right thing, and that she had had no other choice. She didn't speak, just sobbed quietly.  
  
"You two okay?" Sully inquired, letting Dana Murphy and Dr. Morales into the room, the women stopping instantly at the body lying on the floor in a pool of blood.  
  
Bosco didn't speak, too exhausted to do so, and simply nodded, taking in a deep breath.  
  
"It's okay, Faith... I'm here... it's over." 


	13. Chapter 13

The ambulance rolled to a gentle stop outside the station on King & Arthur, and Bobby and Kim climbed out of their respective sides, breathing identical sighs of relief at hearing that the latest dilemma had been resolved. Wayne Thomson was out of the picture... Yokas had killed him, shortly after the man had arrived in Mercy hospital intending to kill her and Bosco... or so went her statement.  
  
Bobby didn't doubt the legitimacy of it one bit. He had no qualms about what had happened. The man hadn't deserved to live anymore. Something had obviously been wrong with him in the first place to make him do all the crazy things he had done, but that didn't make any difference. If he had had a problem, then getting help should have been the only idea on his mind.  
  
Instead he had wiped out three innocent civilians, and put two cops in Angel of Mercy, soon arriving at the hospital to try and finish the job. It made Bobby feel a little ill to think about it.  
  
So he just silently followed Kim into the station, intending to grab a quick bite to eat, and a soda, before the two hit the streets again. Their shift was far from over. They had another five hours to go yet, but somehow, knowing Wayne Thomson wasn't out there anymore made him feel better in a way. Perhaps in having secure knowledge of the fate of a cold- blooded killer was settling to the paramedic... he knew he and Kim were safe out there now. He didn't have to worry about anything happening for another day.  
  
Climbing the stairs, he cleared the matter from his mind.  
  
* * *  
  
Sitting on the edge of his bed, his eyes stared out of the window into the relaxing sight of the sunset on the horizon. Its light was fading, and it brought with it a gentle glow that seemed to signify the end of danger for another day.  
  
He reached up a hand, and slowly ran his fingers through his dishevelled hair, letting out a deep breath, feeling it come easier to him now. After seeing that dead body lying there on the floor had somehow seemed to make his recovery quicken. He knew deep inside himself that that wasn't possible, and the thought made a wan smile appear on his face.  
  
He shrugged the robe back onto his shoulders properly, feeling it sliding down his back a little, and pulled it back into position with his right hand... the hand that had fired the gun.  
  
Sully had revealed his -somewhat frowned-upon- act of leaving behind a gun for Faith to use in order to protect herself, and that made him respect the older man in a new light. It wasn't like him. He would know never to underestimate the veteran officer again.  
  
But the real question to him was why hadn't Faith used the gun as soon as Wayne had appeared... had she even known its presence?  
  
"Bos'?"  
  
He turned his head to glance over his shoulder, seeing the familiar face of his partner looking at him curiously. His eyes turned back to the window, even as he heard her gentle footfalls, and the clicking of the door as she entered. She arrived at his side soon after.  
  
A hand rested on his shoulder softly, and he breathed a slight sigh.  
  
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, her words little more than a whisper, as though she were afraid to wake someone close by from a deep sleep.  
  
His eyes looked up into hers, and Bosco felt a wash of relief sweep through his body at seeing Faith Yokas unharmed. He owed her his life, and he didn't know how he could make that up to her.  
  
"Thank you," he managed after a quiet moment, letting his eyes wander back to the sunset outside.  
  
She took it upon herself then to sit beside him, and her hand landed on his, gripping it securely. "Bosco," she began, looking out of the window herself, "I know you would have done the same for me. I know you tried... twice."  
  
Bosco let his head hang a little, and his brow furrowed slightly.  
  
Faith gazed at him for a long time in contemplative silence before she said, "I wanted to kill him."  
  
His eyes immediately met hers, and he had to force himself to think over what she had said, unsure at first that she had even spoken the words so unbecoming of her.  
  
Faith swallowed dryly, and took a deep breath. "I saw him... when he was trying to kill you, and my only thought was to pick up the gun and fire. I didn't even think of where to shoot him, just... kept on pulling the trigger. I killed him." Her face turned from his as if in shame, and her eyes closed, her head hanging.  
  
He used his free hand to turn her head back so that their eyes locked once again, and he slowly said to her, "Faith... you saved my life. Nothing is going to change that."  
  
She looked more miserable than he had ever seen her before, and it saddened him more than he would have ever thought possible.  
  
"I've told you before, and I'm not going to take it back, Faith. You did the right thing. You had no other choice, you hear me?"  
  
For a long time, they simply looked into one another's eyes, and said nothing. The two friends sat in the failing light for what seemed like hours, and shared a quiet sensitive moment.  
  
Faith nodded finally, whispering, "I've never felt that way before."  
  
Bosco tilted his head in inquiry, knowing that she would understand from his expression that he wished for her to clarify.  
  
"When I saw them bring you in... after the fire, I felt like my world was collapsing in around me, and I wanted nothing more than to see you breathe again... hear one of your bigoted opinions."  
  
Bosco smiled, lowering his gaze momentarily.  
  
"And then when I saw Wayne trying to kill you, I knew that it was up to me to put it all to an end." She paused, and shook her head. "As I pulled that trigger, I felt something deep inside me that I never even knew was there. It took all my strength just to do what I did... and I."  
  
Bosco squeezed her hand, letting her know that he was listening. Whatever she had to say, he was here for her.  
  
"I don't know how you do it everyday, Bosco... how do you act so brave?"  
  
Bosco let a smile come to his face, and he stroked back a bang of her hair from her face, as he replied, "I have you to help me, Faith. I wouldn't be able to do this without you."  
  
She looked on the verge of tears again at the sentiment he showed her, the compassion he was giving her. He had always hidden it, but it had always been there, beneath the surface. He was just too afraid to show it... until now.  
  
"I want you to know something, Faith."  
  
She looked up to meet his eyes again, and blinked once.  
  
"I want you to know that I respect you for what you did, and that..." He stopped, unsure how to finish.  
  
Faith squeezed his hand gently, and silently urged him to continue.  
  
"I want you to know that I love you, and I won't let anyone hurt you again."  
  
Her eyes sank for a moment, and a solitary tear fell.  
  
"I'll always be there for you, Faith... I'm always here when you need me. You know that, right?"  
  
Another tear rolled slowly down her cheek, and she seemed unable to speak, just nod. And then she quietly whispered, "I know, Bosco... I know."  
  
He watcher her lean in, and felt her head rest gently on his shoulder, as the two stared together out at the setting sun, taking with it all of their grief and trauma, and leaving only their friendship and love that they had worked so hard to build.  
  
They sat for hours, staring out into the world. 


End file.
